


At the Start

by LizHollow



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Gold & Silver & Crystal | Pokemon Gold Silver Crystal Versions
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Time Travel, soulsilvershipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 62,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizHollow/pseuds/LizHollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyra receives a letter from herself at the start of her journey telling her that she can stop everything bad that is meant to happen before it even begins. But can fate be altered altogether or merely driven temporarily off-course?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Letter from the Past

**Chapter One – A Letter from the Past**

Today marks the start of everything.

‘Everything’ sounds broad, which belies the truth of the matter. My life begins today. Technically it officially began fifteen years, three hundred sixty-four days, twenty-three hours, fifty-nine minutes, and twenty-six seconds ago, but the metaphorical idea of my life begins today. Sixteen-year-olds like me get to finally go off on their own, which basically means I’m a real person now.

I roll over onto my stomach and stare at the clock on my wall. The second hand slows as it approaches the twelve. It obviously wants to mock me. But then it stops altogether, twitching endlessly at fifty-nine seconds.

“I’m missing it,” I say. “Stupid batteries.”

With a huff, I kick all of my covers off me and stomp over to my clock. Of course the batteries would die the very _second_ I turn sixteen. _7:12 in the morning, down to the second_ , my mom always told me. She tells me that’s the very reason why I’m a morning person. As a baby I would sleep through the night, but I’d be wide awake by six and ready to play.

The batteries spill across the floor when I open the back of the clock. One darts under my bed, and the other fits perfectly under my door to the hallway. I sigh but go for neither. Instead, I reach for a pair of new batteries from my top desk drawer and fit them into place. The second hand hasn’t resumed moving, I notice when I flip the clock back over.

“Happy birthday to me,” I mutter and dump the clock onto my desk. “Piece of junk.”

I leave with a sigh and kick the battery that made its way out into the hallway back into my bedroom. The house is quiet; my mom hasn’t woken up yet. _The second you learned how to prepare your own breakfast was the second I began sleeping in again_. Of course, that was until I nearly burned the house down making eggs in the toaster. Then she changed to saying, _The second you turned twelve and could be trusted not to destroy the house was the second I began sleeping in again_.

The clock over the stove reads 7:16. I definitely missed it.

Well, it doesn’t matter one way or the other. All that it means is that I’m officially sixteen and can stop by Professor Elm’s lab for a Pokémon—the start of everything.

“Lyra?” my mom’s groggy voice calls from the top of the stairs. I skid out of the kitchen and wave from the living room. “Happy birthday… you’re up so early…”

“The clock in my room bit the dust. I had to check the time,” I say. I turn when she begins making her descent down the stairs and walk back into the kitchen. There’s an envelope on the island I hadn’t noticed before with my name on it. I grab it and slide my finger under the flap, then hesitate when I hear my mom’s soft footsteps.

She walks past me and heads right for the coffee pot. It’s only after she gets the pot going that she comes over to me and kisses my head. "Can't believe my baby is sixteen."

“Can I open it?” I ask, wiggling the envelope in front of her face.

My mom snatches it from me, though probably only to stop me from waving it an inch from her face. “Who’s it from?” She flips it front and back several times as if expecting the name of the sender to magically appear.

I take the letter back from her and try the same thing with similar results: no other names; just mine. “I thought it was from you. Guess it’s probably Ethan or Professor Elm.”

The water stops dripping from the coffee maker, and Mom’s face brightens. She swats a hand at me in an indication that I can open the envelope, and then takes a swig off black liquid from the mug under the coffee maker. I don’t know how she does it; I’ve tried coffee black _and_ with an additional cup of sugar, and neither taste good.

I finish opening the envelope but accidentally tear a corner off in my eagerness to read whatever is inside. It’s not a birthday card, like I expect, but a plain piece of lined paper folded three times to fit into the envelope. The scrawl on the inside resembles my own, almost completely, but I don’t remember ever writing to myself.

“Who’s it from?” my mom repeats.

“Looks like it’s from me,” I say. “It’s probably one of those school projects I don’t remember—the ones where they tell you to write advice to yourself.”

But the smile I bear quickly diminishes into a grimace as I dissect the information on the page: information that does indeed give advice, but not advice that I would have known before now. This is no school project.

_Lyra,_

_I apologize for not introducing myself in person. There isn’t much time, and the methods are unclear. Besides, you already know me._

_Something terrible has happened where I am, Lyra. I don’t know all of the details in regards to the others, but I know one thing for sure: I’m not the only one of us who failed. So I thought it fair to warn you of the dangers that lie ahead. Maybe then you’ll have a chance at succeeding where we didn’t._

_Things will begin happening quickly. You woke up this morning thinking that this is the start of everything, and you’re right. It IS the start, but not the start you wanted._

_The clock in your room stopped working at 7:11:59. That is the official start time._

_It begins with Team Rocket, but things get worse if you fail to stop them. They’re more powerful than the last time, and if they succeed in reuniting with Giovanni, there will be serious hell to pay. And the price is not one that you want to pay. Trust me on that._

_There’s no time. I’ll try to get another correspondence out to you. In the meantime, find Silver. The expression, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” applies directly to him. Make him your friend. He’ll help you. He’s the redhead staring in Professor Elm’s window at the lab by the forest’s edge. He’s trying to steal a Pokémon to take on Team Rocket for personal reasons, but only when there are two left._

_Choose wisely._

_I believe in you. Just, please, believe in me. This is all I can do to help. Happy Birthday._

_Good luck,_

_Lyra_

My fingers tighten around the paper, and I turn away from my mom before she can see my face. It’s my handwriting, my name… she knew that my clock had stopped, knew what I thought about when I woke up this morning…

Normally I’d say this is a joke, but I can’t see how that’s feasible. Unless someone took the time to copy my penmanship with extra care, there’s no way I can _not_ believe it. This letter arrived from me—me, where, when, how, I don’t know. Me from another time? The me who failed to stop Team Rocket and in turn failed to stop some cataclysmic event?

No, not possible. Why would a sixteen-year-old be responsible for stopping a criminal organization?

Besides, a _ten-year-old_ stopped them three years ago. From what I understand, they have been completely dissolved since then, and the chances of them returning after their major financial and political losses would be…

I mean, that would be crazy, right?

“I have to go get ready,” I say quietly, and before my mom can say anything in response, I dart up the stairs back to my room.

Because my clock doesn’t work anymore, I can’t tell what time it is by the time I finish showering and dressing. But when I run down the stairs, my mom informs me that I’ve already had two visitors in whatever amount of time I took.

“Ethan stopped by, and Professor Elm called. He wants to see you.”

“I’m on my way, then!” I shout when I’m already halfway out the door.

I know I should go see Ethan first and show him this piece of paper weighing down my pocket. But I’m too curious about the letter to make my way to my friend's house. Instead, I head directly for Professor Elm’s lab. It’s warm out today, and sweat glistens on my forehead. I don’t stop running, though, until I see the lab come into view around the trees.

Then I sneak. It hurts to hold my breath after running, but I do anyway. The breeze makes more noise than my footsteps, and I keep close to the building to hide my shadow. When I make it to the far corner past the front door, I lean around the edge and spot a person on the other side: a redhead, just like the letter said, peering in the window.

“Hey!” I hiss.

The boy jumps, and he looks over his shoulder at me. When our eyes meet, something in my head aches—I groan in pain and press my palm against my right temple.

“Get lost,” the boy snaps.

“Are you…” I stop and groan again, and this time I lean forward and press my eyes shut. The pain subsides as quickly as it came on. I peek an eye open and look at the boy again. “Are you Silver?”

His expression, lit by a momentary panic, indicates that my guess hit the mark; his answer, however, contradicts this. “No.” His curtness, though, only serves to prove me even more correct. His eyes search mine for a minute, but I doubt he finds anything of value. And far below my stoic façade, my hands shake fiercely.

My seriousness must have churned something within him because after a moment he gives an exasperated sigh. “Well, who’s asking?”

“My name is Lyra, and I—”

There’s a sudden clamor within the lab, and Silver turns back to face the window again. He grumbles, shoots me a dark look, and then lowers himself so only his eyes and top of his head press against the window. “I don’t have time for you. Get out of here, kid.”

“Kid? I look older than you.”

“Doubtful.”

“Maybe by a year,” I snap, but my attitude doesn’t earn his attention back. Stupid brat. He just wants to make this really difficult for himself, doesn’t he?

I step forward and take ahold of his shoulder. When I spin him and press his back up against the building, he shouts, “Hey! Let go!” I note that it’s a good thing that something busy is going on inside the lab, otherwise he might have given away his position.

“Listen up,” I bark. “What do you have against Team Rocket?”

His eyes go wide, and he splutters for a moment before choking out, “What?”

“You’re going to steal a Pokémon from Professor Elm’s lab, aren’t you?” Silver’s eyes are so wide now that they’re practically bulging out of their sockets. “So that you can fight Team Rocket? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and Team Rocket is my enemy. That makes you my friend, right? Because you’re fighting Team Rocket?”

Silver doesn’t say anything. He stares at me, and with each passing second his eyes return to normal. When everything I’ve said seems to catch up with him, he reaches a hand up slowly towards mine and loosens my grip from his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say friends.”

“Well, I could either go to the authorities and tell them that you’re causing a disturbance and possibly trying to steal a Pokémon, or you can be my friend.” It’s not a great threat, especially because I don’t know why they would believe a teenage girl like me even if I went to the cops, but I don’t care.

Silver scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You’re annoying.”

“Well, I’ll tell you this: I was planning on taking Chikorita for my starter Pokémon, which leaves you with Cyndaquil or Totodile. But since you were planning on just breaking and entering, you were just gonna take the first one you could get your grimy little hands on, right? Based on the probability and location of the two left, I'd guess you'd end up with Cyndaquil.” I jab a thumb towards the clearly behind us that leads to the front door. “What if there was certainty? What if you could choose? Just ask Elm when I go in. He’s not going to say no.”

“I’m not sixteen yet.”

Ha, knew it. I _am_ older than this snot-nosed ginger.

“Then lie. You were planning on breaking the law, anyway.”

Silver contemplates this with a pained expression, though I’m not sure why. I’m giving him a better alternative than his first intentions. And even if he prefers to be alone, which I’m guessing is the case by his lack of conversational know how, a teammate will ultimately help him achieve his goal.

And the fact that he never denied that stopping Team Rocket is his true goal hints that the Lyra from the letter held some truth in her words. Plus, she got his name right and knew exactly where he would be hiding.

What if I can change everything? If not in her world, or apparently the others, then at least in mine? What if what is destined to happen can be altered completely?

“Fine.” Silver slips out from underneath my hand entirely and pushes me away from him. I stumble backwards but catch myself before I fall. “Then let’s do this thing. Get me in there and get me a Pokémon, and we’ll work together.”

I rub the spot on my shoulder blade where he pushed me for effect; it doesn’t particularly hurt, but I want to give him the impression it does. “Push me again, and I’ll push you back harder.”

Silver likes this; he smiles, though not entirely genuine, and chuckles. “Don’t they say not to fight hate with hate?”

“Oh, I don’t hate you,” I coo, and I hope the tone comes off patronizingly. “We’re friends, after all. Friends who share a common enemy. So, if you want to get this show on the road, then we’re going to need to do one more thing before I uphold my end of the bargain. I need to confirm with someone that I’m not going mad.”

“Aren’t you?” Silver asks and chuckles again.

“A quick detour,” I assure him. “And then we can get you what you want.”

Frankly, I’m not one who goes around believing in destiny or fate or any of that crap. But I know when to believe myself. Teenagers either have the world’s highest self-confidence or the world’s lowest. And, well, I had a lot.

So, destiny or not, I may hold the key to fixing the world before disaster strikes. And who am I to ignore even the _possibility_ of that being the case?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I like stories with letters.
> 
> Welcome, friends.
> 
> Updates with this story will likely be irregular. I started grad school full-time on top of my normal day job, so my schedule will be busy and kind of generally funky. As you cool kids say, “Hashtag-YOLO.”
> 
> Just kidding. But I hope you’ll follow along for this story regardless of the irregular updates. It would mean a lot to me, as would any comments or reviews you have for me! Enjoy!


	2. Transcendence

Ethan’s personality can overwhelm even the bubbliest and most outgoing of people. The look of pure disgust I see Silver give him out of the corner of my eye when Ethan engulfs me in a hug and begins shooting off birthday wishes reminds me of the face one makes before vomiting. I fear for a moment that Silver will start retching, especially once he looks away and seems to swallow something down.

“Your birthday party is going to be wild. They don’t call it the Sweet Sixteen for nothing!” Ethan rambles. He doesn’t stop until he takes a step back and finds my excitement is not up to par with his expectations. Then his eyes dart towards Silver, and he frowns. “You’ve got a shadow there, Lyra. Is, uh… is everything okay?”

Well, Silver admittedly has the whole teenage-angst look going on. I can see why Ethan would start questioning my decisions based on first impressions.

But I also know that Ethan believes in weird things like time travel and fate, so this whole thing will be like a huge gift to him. My birthday is the gift in itself—the gift that keeps on giving, one may say. Except it kind of sounds like if I don’t figure out this whole mess, my number of future birthdays may significantly diminish.

“We need to talk,” I say. I reach into my pocket and pull out the letter from Other Lyra. “Can we go upstairs to your room? Somewhere private?”

Silver snorts behind me, but I ignore him. He’s definitely a teenage boy, that’s for sure. Even Ethan remains solemn through my innocuous comment, as he should. In fact, my best friend ushers us in before even glancing down at the letter, though his eyes flicker every few seconds with some hint of curiosity.

“Happy birthday, Lyra!” Ethan’s mom calls to me as the three of us bound up the stairs. She doesn’t even look over her shoulder, but it’s rarely anyone else who comes to visit Ethan. If she knew that another boy dropped by, she might start to worry about her plans to marry Ethan off to me.

Silver is the first to make himself comfortable in Ethan’s room. He plops down on the floor and leans up against a giant Snorlax doll. His eyes pass over the walls and decorations of the room with some subtle sense of awe, which makes me want to know what kind of room he grew up in. Frankly, I find Ethan’s room plain. No posters, lame bedsheets, almost-empty bookshelf. Boring, regular, unostentatious—though certainly not to a fault.

Besides, I suspect it has all Ethan needs. I accidentally snooped and found some interesting magazines under his bed once. I try not to think about that too often.

I wave at Ethan as I sit down in his desk chair. He drops onto his bed. “Go ahead. I know you’re dying.”

“But who’s—”

“Just read the damn letter, Ethan.”

He’s always been a bit of a pushover when it comes to me, but it doesn’t take much convincing to make him begin to read. His gaze darts back and forth across the page, up and down, over and up. And when his face changes, the pattern repeats. And it repeats a third time. Four times I think he’s read it before he looks back up at me and smiles.

“If we submit this to the Science Center for the Advancement of Earth, do you know how famous we’d become? Then again, they’d probably just suspect you of making it all up… Unless what you say is true, that you’ll try to correspond again…” Ethan rambles, and then he snaps his fingers and points at the redheaded boy sitting in the room. “Silver!”

“Give the boy a medal…” Silver mutters. He’s closed his eyes and leaned back against the Snorlax, appearing more content than he’s likely ever been. But that’s only based on the five minutes I’ve known him.

I find it odd that Silver doesn’t want to know what we’re talking about or what the letter says. However, I can also infer that this is just the type of person he is: one who doesn’t care much one way or the other. He’s got his mind set on Team Rocket, and that’s about it.

“And was it all true? Was he where you said?” Ethan asks me.

I put my hands on my hips and nod. “I’d prefer if you’d not refer to it as me. Call her Lyra or… Other Lyra or something. _I_ didn’t write that letter. Someone else did, regardless of the fact that we may very well be the same person. For all intents and purposes, we’re separate… living in separate dimensions, pulled apart by time. One of many, perhaps, which is probably for the best given the situation…” I trail off.

Silver opens his eyes and leans forward. “Are you for real, Pigtail Girl? Separate dimensions?”

“My name’s Lyra. And also…” I hesitate. It’s probably better if Silver doesn’t know that I’m doing this to save the world. Somehow I think he’d get in the way of that while simultaneously hating Team Rocket and wanting them gone. “It’s complicated. But if you want to stop Team Rocket, then you still have to go along with what I say.”

“What’s the plan?” Ethan asks.

I frown, watching as his Marill dashes into the room. It jumps right up onto Ethan’s lap, and he drops the letter to the floor. Silver looks right at it, but I go for it before he has an opportunity.

The only plan I really have is to go off what Other Lyra says. But if she couldn’t even save her own dimension, and neither could the supposed others, why did I think she could save mine? Why did I think _I_ could save mine? We all failed thus far.

Yet if I can fix everything, then I can warn the others after me. Clearly we are not on a linear timeline; if there are others who have experienced events that I have not yet witnessed, then the logic follows that there are those behind me. A young Lyra waits out there somewhere, oblivious to the potential terror that awaits.

This all happened so fast, and I can’t help but feel a tad worried for myself.

“How do you think Other Lyra transcended the boundaries of time?” Ethan asks as he scratches Marill’s head. Its ears twitch pleasantly.

“I don’t know. All I know is that she has.” I lean back in the chair and stare at the ceiling. The stillness of the room lingers as we all think of what to say, and it frightens me to think that this may be the last calm moment in which I’ll ever partake.

I clap my hands against my thighs and then stand. “Well, I’m going to stop them. Team Rocket won’t get their way,” I say with the determination my self-confidence provides me. “Cancel the birthday party, Ethan. Silver and I take off today after we get our Pokémon from Elm.” Just as Ethan opens his mouth, I hold up a hand. “No, Ethan. If we make progress—if we make change—then Lyra won’t know where to expect us. You have to stay here in case any more letters arrive. She’ll have thought of it. Just… call me when and if you get one.”

Ethan doesn’t look pleased, but he nods.

I gesture at Silver, who groans when he leans on the Snorlax to stand. “Pain in my ass,” I hear him mutter, as if I am asking so much of him.

“For the record, Ethan, I’ll be choosing Chikorita as my teammate, in case Other Lyra mentions it. And Silver will choose…”

Silver looks directly at me as he says, “Totodile.”

He puts his hands in his pocket and leaves Ethan’s room first. I smile at his withdrawing back and then turn my attention back to Ethan. “That means he’s choosing Cyndaquil,” I whisper, and then I follow Silver out of the room.

I shout a farewell to Ethan’s mom and shove Silver out the front door. I don’t think she’s seen us as we depart. We both move briskly back towards the building where we met, though Silver follows several paces behind me with more hesitance in his footsteps than in mine. I keep glancing back over my shoulder to make sure he’s still there.

“Let’s get a move on, buddy,” I call. Silver clicks his tongue behind me, and I smile. I’m used to Ethan’s energy, but Silver’s personality may very well be a welcome change for me.

Once we arrive back at the lab, I knock on the front door before entering. Whatever caused the clamor earlier has been cleaned up, and all appears calm as Silver and I walk through the library in the front to Elm’s office in the back. He’s bent over some book with his glasses lowered on his nose, not noticing us until the door clicks shut behind us. Then he jumps and looks up.

“Oh, dear,” he says. “Lyra, my girl, I’ve been expecting you! It’s been just a… just a busy morning, but, well, that’s neither here nor there.” He shuts his book and then groans. “Boo, I’ve just lost my page…”

I reach over and open the book again, flipping through until I find the picture of the Mareep that had been on the page he read. Elm pushes his glasses up and then looks at me. He only seems to notice Silver once I step out of the way and hold my hand out towards the redhead.

“This is my friend, Silver. He wants a Pokémon, too, you see… He turned sixteen almost five weeks ago and has only just been able to come now,” I explain.

Elm nods in his dazed way and then walks over to the computer at the desk. He swipes a blank card through a reader and then sticks it into a printer. “I’ll just need some of his information. I’ve got your Trainer ID all set up, but he’ll need one, too.”

“Oh, um, he’s from—”

“I don’t need a trainer card…” Silver mumbles over me.

Professor Elm chuckles and looks over his shoulder at Silver. “I’m afraid you can’t raise any Pokémon without one. I just need your name, your town or city of permanent residence, and your birthdate.”

Silver doesn’t say anything. I elbow him, and he cries out in pain. “Ow.”

“Silver… Oro…son. Silver Oroson. From Olivine. Birthdate is the fifteenth of April, same year as mine, of course,” I say unsurely, but Professor Elm types all of the information into the computer without questioning it. It’s only after that I realize April 15th was more than five weeks ago, and I silently pray Elm doesn’t notice.

He looks in our direction and waves at Silver. “Step over a meter there, son.”

Silver takes a hesitant sidestep, and there is a sudden flash that blinds the two of us. Professor Elm presses something on the keyboard, and the card slides through the printer and comes out on the other side with Silver’s shocked face on it.

Professor Elm collects the card and then begins flipping through piles of paper searching for something. “By all means, Lyra, choose a Pokémon. Then, Silver, you can choose.”

I don’t hesitate and choose Chikorita without wasting so much as a breath. Silver doesn’t waste a moment, either.

But the second he touches the Poké Ball, my head bursts again, like someone took hold of my brain and squeezed. I cry out and crouch down, putting my face in my hands and biting my lip. Nothing helps the pain this time, not even the closing of my eyes. I don’t hear Professor Elm or Silver, nor do I feel Elm’s concerned hand on my back, until the pain subsides a minute later.

I blink as I lift my head. “Sorry.” I brush Professor Elm’s hand off and stand back up. Silver’s holding the ball, but he’s staring at me with narrowed eyes. I think that’s his way of showing concern, but it’s kind of hard to tell.

“Are you all right, Lyra?” Elm asks. “Should I call your mother to come pick you up?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” I assure him. There’s not even the slightest hint of the pain I felt only seconds ago. “Thanks, Professor Elm. We’ll be going now.”

“Wait, wait! You need these!” he calls as I turn around. He’s waving our two trainer cards at us. “And I have a favor to ask. Can you go north of Cherrywood to Mr. Pokémon’s house? An old colleague of mine is visiting him, and he has something I need.”

I feel like there’s no time for these little favors, but what choice do I have? Besides, Mr. Pokémon or Elm’s colleague might have something to say about the whole Team Rocket issue.

“Yeah, we will. Thanks, Professor.”

I snatch my trainer card and Silver’s from Elm, then pull Silver along as I walk out of the room. My footsteps are loud and a little frantic, and when we get outside, Silver rips himself from my grip. I stop and lean up against the lab’s paneled wall, exhaling slowly and putting a hand to my forehead.

“What was that in there?” Silver asks. “Your little… freak out thing.”

“I don’t know. It happened before, too, when I met you earlier. I’m concerned that it has something to do with this whole time-transcendence thing, but I don’t know how or why.” I glance at Silver’s right hand, in which he holds the ball containing his new kind-of-legally obtained Cyndaquil, and expect another headache. But nothing happens.

Silver sends me a hard look. “If it’s gonna be a problem, I’m going on my own.”

“It won’t be a problem. Now let me go tell my mom I’m leaving, then we can hit the road. Cherrygrove is the closest town, so when we visit Mr. Pokémon, we might as well check the situation there. Or you could go on ahead and check out things in Violet City. That’s a larger town, might be more of a target…” I offer, and Silver crosses his arms.

“What if we’re not supposed to mess with fate?” he asks.

“You haven’t sounded very interested in it. You’re saying you believe it?”

Silver shrugs. “I don’t know. I’d rather not get involved in time travel crap, but I want to stop Team Rocket. What choice do I have but to follow you, especially if it means Team Rocket will win if we don’t work together, like it did in the other dimensions?”

He has a point. I mean, if he—

Wait. He didn’t read my letter. How does he know that Team Rocket wins in the other dimensions? Unless he got his own letter from Other Lyra… or maybe Other Silver?

“How’d you… find out?”

He reaches into his pocket and passes me a note written on the same lined paper as the one I got. When I unfold it, I find my own handwriting scrawled all over it like mine.

_Silver,_

_Lyra’s coming to help you take down Team Rocket. You need to trust her. Team Rocket wins in this world and everywhere else, but there might be a chance if you two work together._

_YOU might have a chance if you two work together. Because you didn’t have a chance here. I’m sorry._

_Lyra_

The letter contains fewer details than mine, and based on my hurried writing, I bet it was written in a rush after mine.

But that’s not what sticks out the most. “You didn’t have a chance?” I ask, and Silver takes the letter back from me so suddenly that he almost rips it. “What’s that supposed to mean? That you… _die_ in the other dimensions?”

Silver’s grimace is not his typical unemotional expression. It’s pained. “That’s kind of what I assume.”

I grab onto the collar of his shirt and yank him closer to me. “I won’t let that happen,” I tell him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “We stick together.”

He pulls my hands off him one finger at a time and then smiles at me when he gets himself free. “I don’t plan on dying, anyhow. I’ve got a few too many important things to take care of and a message to my dad to deliver. Someone’s gotta tell that bastard to go to hell.”

“Well…” I hold out my hand to Silver, and he grasps it firmly with his. I don’t know who his dad is, but it seems important to him. “That someone better be you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy earlier-than-I-expected update. I’m ahead in all of my schoolwork. It’s a great feeling. :D
> 
> Enjoy!


	3. Point A

This is not how I envisioned my journey across Johto beginning.

For one, I definitely planned on going it alone, so heading out of my hometown with a moody (and possibly fated to die) boy like Silver doesn’t exactly fit the bill. But, really, that isn’t the biggest problem here. I certainly had no idea that a me from another dimension figured out how to cross said dimensions and warn me of the imminent destruction planned should I not do something about it.

Frankly, that’s a lot of pressure for a teenage girl like me who only wants to enjoy a peaceful trip away from home during which I annihilate every gym leader possible.

All right, maybe _peaceful_ isn’t exactly the right word for what I had in mind. And I still need to beat the gym leaders because I figure I’ll need the skills provided to me by doing so. But any hope I once had of enjoying this time away from home just becoming one with nature and my team seemed… well, gone.

_Especially_ with the unconcerned kid over here picking his teeth without a care in the world.

I mean, shouldn’t he be the _most_ worried about all of this? If he doesn’t turn things around, then he could very well die? And he just accepts that?

“I don’t,” I decide aloud, and Silver glances at me out of the corner of his eye but continues to pick at his teeth. Somehow his lack of reaction makes it seem like he’s already used to me. I click my tongue and shove my hands in my pockets. “Well, you may be an idiot, but I don’t think death is the right answer, okay?”

Silver takes his hand out of his mouth and wipes it dry on his pant leg. “I didn’t ask you for your opinion.”

No one ever asks me for my opinions, but that doesn’t mean I don’t share them. I hold my tongue this once, though, and look back towards the path leading to my hometown. Just a meter or so behind us, my new partner and Silver’s waddle along. Every time Cyndaquil feels that Chikorita gets too close, little sparks fly from its back.

“Tell your Cyndaquil to watch it,” I say to Silver. He doesn’t do anything, which admittedly doesn’t surprise me. “Cyndaquil, stop it. You’re frightening Chikorita.”

“Don’t tell him what to do. Tytle’s just trying to help your little artichoke grow a backbone,” Silver snaps. I would have been annoyed if not for the fact that I barely heard what he said after the name. I snort, and he shoots me a dark look.

“Sorry. Tytle? What kind of name is that?”

It’s a nice thing to see Silver blush. His cheeks turn nearly as red as his hair. I wish Other Lyra mentioned something about _this_ in her letter. Frankly, this sight almost makes the whole possibility of the world ending seem okay.

All right, not quite, but it’s still really amusing.

“It’s ‘cause we’re gonna be the strongest team ever. We’re going to win the Champion title once all of this goes back to normal, so… you know, Tytle.” With every word, Silver’s cheeks flush darker. At his last spoken word, he pulls Tytle’s ball from his belt and sends the poor Pokémon back inside. “Fine, it’s Ty.”

I can’t help smiling despite feeling a tad guilty about getting Tytle sent to his room like a teenage boy. It’s my fault after all.

“What?” Silver asks with narrowed eyes. “You got a better name for that plant?”

I want to say yes just to rub it in further, but I’ll admit that even I have a conscience. So, I slow my steps and let the Chikorita catch up to me, and then I scoop the little thing into my arms. He’s so tiny, and the leaf on his head falls just below my chin.

“Art,” I say. “Short for Artichoke.”

\- - -

It’s not until we make it to Cherrygrove that Silver lets Ty out of his ball to play a little with Art. I think he’s wanted to let the Cyndaquil out for a while, but he has some weird ego thing going on like most guys his age. Ethan was like that a couple of years ago, too.

Eventually the play turns into something a little more violent, and Art’s leaf catches fire. It delays us further while we wait for our new partners to get healed up. I don’t like just sitting in the Pokémon Center sipping sodas from the vending machine, but I admit that my feet hurt.

Silver sits beside me, his legs spread wide and his arms hanging over the back of the bench. Conversely, I withdraw slightly into myself and reach into my pocket to take out Other Lyra’s letter again. The words don’t change by reading it again, but how do I know what to expect now that sending letters across dimensions is possible?

“You need to loosen up. Accept this.”

Silver’s eyes are closed when I look at him, so he doesn’t notice me roll my eyes at him. “I _am_ loose. Totally chill,” I say. I fold the letter and return it to the depths of my small girl-pockets. The corner of the page still sticks out. Why couldn’t girls have normal-sized pockets?

“Excuse me.” A nurse appears in front of us and bows low. Ty and Art chase each other around her feet. It’s only when the nurse stands tall again that I notice how her eyebrow twitches with what has to be annoyance. “Your Pokémon are all healed. Please have a lovely day.”

_And please leave_ , I see in her eyes.

I smile and hold my arms out towards Art. He hops up into my arms, and his eyes are bright as he glowers down at Ty. Silver stands and does not offer the comfort of his arms to his Pokémon. I like that Art is feisty and ready to show off what he has; it shows personality.

“To Mr. Pokémon’s house,” I announce and start towards the door. But I’ve barely moved a centimeter before my PokéGear begins ringing. Silver grumbles when I pass him Art, but he doesn’t let go of him like I expect him to do. In fact, I think I see his arms tighten around the poor little artichoke.

“Lyra?” the voice on the other end asks.

“Ethan? What’s up? You get another letter?”

“Yeah. I was just sitting downstairs playing with Marill, and I happened to turn around for a minute, and when I looked back, Marill had the letter in his mouth. It’s the craziest thing,” Ethan says, talking quickly but clearly. He has me hanging on his every word; I just want him to read the letter. “It’s a good one, Lyra.”

_Get to the point_ , I think, but I know better than to be snarky over a call when he can’t see my expression. Honestly, though, I mean business.

“Okay, so I’ll read it to you. It says, ‘Lyra. Things are not good here. I’ve lost contact with all of the other dimensions, each one at a time. I think they’ve been eliminated, which means I’m not long for this world if my dimension follows the pattern.

“‘When you go to Mr. Pokémon’s house to get the egg for Elm, Professor Oak from Kanto will be there. Warn him, tell him to start tracking down Red. I think you’re going to need him, too. Once you get the egg to Elm, go immediately towards Azalea. Stop Team Rocket before they hurt the Slowpoke, but enlist the help of the gym leaders along the way.

“‘Sorry I can’t say more yet. I’d rather give you instructions with the time I have than explanations. I hope to correspond again soon. Lyra.’”

The line goes silent as Ethan gives me a moment to digest what I just heard. I wish I had the letter right in front of me to reread, but the words are powerful enough to repeat in my head over and over. _Not long for this world, Red, Azalea, Slowpoke_ …

What am I supposed to do without Other Lyra? How am I supposed to figure out what to do without her? I don’t know what went wrong in the other dimensions still, so if I don’t know that, how can I fix what has not yet happened?

And the Slowpoke? What about the Slowpoke?

“We need to hurry,” I say into the PokéGear. “Thanks, Ethan. Call again if you hear anything else from Other Lyra.” And with that, I snap the PokéGear shut and return it to my bag.

I grab Silver’s arm and pull him outside, all to the sound of loud protests about how it hurts and how he wants to know what’s happening. He’s still holding Art, and Ty trails at our heels making little squeaking noises of desperation to keep up. It’s only when we’re at the forest’s edge that I stop and let go of Silver’s arm.

“What’s going on?” he demands. He shoves Art back into my arms, and I brush the little guy’s leaf with my index finger. “What’d the letter say?”

“The Other Lyras are all dying off, getting killed in their worlds. We’re not going to get much more help from this Other Lyra, so we don’t have a lot of time to figure things out.” I lower Art to the ground, and Ty immediately tackles him. “She gave some instructions on how to start off, and she knows where Team Rocket is—”

Silver is the one who grabs me this time. “Then let’s go!”

But I shake him off of me, and he stares at me with narrowed eyes. “We can’t yet. We’ve got stuff to do. Other Lyra wants us to warn Professor Oak about Team Rocket and tell him to find Red, plus we’ve got to get the egg to Professor Elm—and she wants us to gather the gym leaders, too, so we can’t just go.”

Silver scowls, crossing his arms and shaking his head with his eyes full of pure disgust. “ _I_ don’t have the time to run errands. You might have more time than me, but I can’t waste the time I do have playing errand boy. If you know where Team Rocket is gonna be, then I have to get there first and stop them ahead of time.”

I point a shaking finger down at Ty and Art. Art’s got Ty pinned this time, and he directs his leaf like a rigid blade against Ty’s neck. “How?” I snap. The playful fighting between Art and Ty ceases. “You plan on just rushing in there and saving the day? Hate to break it to you, but you’re exactly ‘Champion title’ material right now! If Team Rocket is strong enough to take over these other dimensions, then _you’re_ not strong enough to stop them as you are right now. We can still hurry, but we need to train, too.”

I expect Silver to lash out at me and start listing reasons why I’m wrong, but his shoulders relax with a sigh. He won’t admit that I’m right or say that he’s wrong, but he nods to show his agreement.

“The two of them playing together is good. They’ll be able to train each other. But eventually they’re going to need to fight other trainers and the gym leaders to become stronger,” I continue, and at this point I know Silver just wants me to shut up. “I’m sorry. I know that there’s more on the line for you in terms of time constraint. But believe me when I say that stopping Team Rocket is my first priority, too.”

“Other Lyra couldn’t even stop them in her time; or the time before that, or the time before _that_. What makes you think that following her plan is going to help us?” Silver asks.

I don’t, but I also don’t want to admit that to him. There’s no guarantee that this will work. But the more people who join our side and our cause, the stronger the good guys get, right? There doesn’t seem to be any disadvantage to gathering more people around us, even if it takes a little bit of time away from us.

“Come on.” I hold out my hand towards Silver, and he stares at it with his lips pursed. “Please?”

He ignores my hand but begins walking forward with some indignation. I smile at his little red-haired head in front of me and take the lead, since I doubt he has any idea where he’s going.

It doesn’t take us long to read Mr. Pokémon’s house, which I think serves as some slight relief to Silver. And Mr. Pokémon opens the door nearly as soon as I knock as if he was waiting right on the other side for me to arrive. Behind him, I can see another man sitting at a dining table sipping a cup of something.

“We’ve got a lot to do, so if you could make this quick,” Silver says.

Mr. Pokémon’s eyes go wide, and Professor Oak starts coughing on whatever it is that he’s drinking. I elbow Silver and then put a hand on his head to force him to bow.

“I apologize for my friend’s behavior. He’s just irritable because he has some… indigestion…” I explain. Luckily, Mr. Pokémon doesn’t turn us away, and instead nods and offers for us to sit at the table with Professor Oak.

“This tea is excellent for proper bowel movement,” Professor Oak says and lifts his mug.

Silver makes a face, and I stomp on his foot this time. “Ow! Who the he—”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mr. Pokémon laughs and sits down beside Old Man Oak. “Professor Elm has told me so much about you, and I’ve been neglecting to properly introduce myself and my company. I’m Mr. Pokémon, and this is my colleague Professor Oak. He’s quite an expert on Pokémon, far more than I am. And you see, I received—”

“Can we speed this up?” Silver interrupts.

I smack a hand down on the table. “Come on, dude! Manners!”

Mr. Pokémon continues as if he didn’t hear any of that. I commend him for his poise, admittedly. “I received an egg from a colleague in Ecruteak, and then Professor Oak showed up to examine it. And, well, we both agreed that Professor Elm is far more skilled and knowledgeable when it comes to Pokémon evolution. Would you be willing to deliver this to him?”

He walks over to a nearby counter, where he lifts something off a pillow. When he turns to face us again, he holds a speckled egg carefully in his arms. It is much heavier than I expect, I note when he hands it to me. But it also seems so incredibly fragile that I doubt I’m the right person to trust with this thing.

“Thank you, sir.”

“And I have plans to return to Kanto, but I wanted to stick around to meet you. It seems you both received some rare Pokémon from Elm, did you?” Professor Oak asks, gesturing with his cup of tea towards Art and Ty. The two of them, for once, sit calmly beside each other. “They look well-cared for. Impressive.”

I don’t want to tell him he’s wrong, so I keep my mouth shut. But frankly I think both Silver and I could do better.

“How would you like to help me out with a little project of my own?” Professor Oak reaches into his pocket and fishes for something. His face contorts further the longer his search goes on, and Silver grows stiffer and stiffer with every passing second.

“I need some air…” Silver finally mutters, and he walks out of the house without another word or a polite bow. I shake my head disappointedly before returning my attention to Oak.

He has found what he was looking for and passes a single red device, about the size of a deck of cards, across the table to me. “I’m afraid I only have one with me. But it’s a Pokédex for recording the information about Pokémon. There are all sorts of species here that aren’t in Kanto, so I’d like you to help me out with some research on them.”

“Oh, okay. I mean, I kind of have more important things to do, but sure,” I say. It takes me a second to realize that I sound about as rude as Silver, and I frown. “Sorry, it’s just… uh, we’ve got kind of a problem. Um… Team Rocket is returning, and they’re going to pretty much take over if no one stops them. So I need you to find Red.”

The room is silent following my confession. Professor Oak and Mr. Pokémon exchange a look, then both burst out laughing.

“My dear, Team Rocket is gone,” Professor Oak says.

I fold my hands together on the tabletop and nod. “But not for long. They’re already in Johto and planning to do some terrible things. I don’t know what exactly, but they’re going to hurt a lot of Pokémon and people. It wouldn’t be right of me to have this information and do nothing with it. I’m only asking that you pass the message along to Red. I know no one’s seen him in a while, but… if you could just try.”

It takes another silent minute to pass for Professor Oak to realize that I’m serious. His smile fades slowly into a grimace, and he nods with a dark expression. “Of course. Yes, of course, I’ll see if I can reach out to him.”

“Thank you.” I rise from my seat and bow, still clutching the egg to my chest. “Okay, well, um… thank you, Mr. Pokémon. And thank you for the Pokédex, Professor. Be seeing you.” I hurry towards the door and then glance back to find Ty and Art still lingering by the chair I just left. “Come on, you two!”

They scurry after me and out the door. Ty immediately heads towards Silver, who’s fuming by a tree and kicking up dirt at its roots.

“Let’s hurry,” I tell the boy softly. I pat his arm, then jab a thumb over my shoulder towards Cherrygrove.

“Finally,” he breathes, “some sense.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I hope to have another chapter up soon.


	4. Unchanged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, there’s an event in this chapter that may be a sensitive subject to some people. Proceed with caution. Otherwise, please enjoy the chapter and leave me any feedback you may have. I appreciate it.

Ethan waits for us outside Elm’s lab. It’s unusual that his Marill isn’t with him, but I think he’s more concerned than both Silver and I combined about this whole mess. I know what’s on the line, but I’m an active independent variable in this whole thing. Ethan? He realizes that he’s a dependent, just something that will change as a result of my choices.

I get why that can be hard for him. I would have thought that keeping his Marill closer to him would keep his head clear, but I wonder if I’m the reason he left the Pokémon behind. Over the phone, Ethan sounded quite nonchalant about the whole thing when I couldn’t see his face betray his true emotions. Yet in person, I wonder if Marill would give away his façade. Ethan’s masked emotions usually appeared blatant to his partner.

“Let’s make this quick, yeah?” Silver says to me under his breath as we approach. “I don’t want to be around this kid any longer than I have to…”

I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. “You do realize that’s my best friend you’re talking about?”

But Silver is equally as cheeky to me when he leans towards me and whispers in my ear, “Well, if you want to keep it that way, then I guess you ought to think about how much time you’re wasting giggling pleasantries instead of actually saving his ass from the destruction Team Rocket is bound to bring upon him.”

I shove him away from me and quicken my steps towards Ethan. It has nothing to do with what Silver just said and everything to do with wanting to get away from him. I wonder if Silver’s deaths in the other dimensions were by my hand? It seems plausible.

It’s barely been half a day since I last saw Ethan, but the two of us still embrace when we meet. Ethan holds me an extra second longer than our normal friendly hugs, but he’s smiling when he lets go. I know for sure that he’s upset about this whole thing and is hiding silently behind his own pride.

“I missed you,” I tell him.

He chuckles and pats my arm. “No, you didn’t. You’ve always been the independent one, even when we were younger. Can’t say I’m the same… I definitely missed you.”

“Wow…” I hear Silver mutter behind us. “It’s been, like, five hours.”

The sun has set, and a chilly breeze blows through the cool spring air. I wrap my arms around myself and step closer to Ethan. I am aware of what exactly Silver is thinking, and I can’t say I’ve never thought the same. But Ethan is my best friend since birth, and I can see how something that is truly familial love between two unrelated people might seem like more.

Ethan snaps his fingers suddenly and proceeds to fish through his pockets. “The letter. You should hold onto it. I’ll make sure to save them as they come, so if you ever make it back home after today…”

His trailing off is more ominous than I like, and I nod grimly. “I’ll be back,” I assure him and take the letter before we head inside.

I’ve known Professor Elm to work late hours in the lab, but the frantic atmosphere seems hardly different from this morning. He’s out and about now, not in his office. In one hand he holds an open book, which he has his nose almost completely inside, and in his other he holds a full cup of microwave noodles.

“Um, Professor,” I call quietly. The noodles splash in his cup as he turns with his face still in the book.

“Yes, yes, yes, what’s happening now?”

He trips over a pile of books that has been scattered across the floor and never organized, and the cup of noodles goes flying. It happens all in slow motion: Elm looks up as it escapes his grip; like an idiot, my arms go out towards it; Ethan grabs my right wrist and tugs; and I’m fairly certain but not totally sure that it’s Silver’s hands on my back that push me to the ground.

The noodles end up upside down on the floor beside me. Some of the boiling soup within splattered and hit my left arm, and the burn makes me squeal in pain. But I’m not worried about me. I gasp and look inside my bag, which broke my fall completely.

“Oh, no…” I breathe. I clasp a hand over my mouth and shake my head. “No, no, no…”

I barely see the broken pieces of egg shell in my bag before the migraine hits. It’s so violent this time that everything around me gets shut out by the pain. I can’t see, I can’t hear. And it’s only when someone shakes me back to reality—possibly back to consciousness—that I realize that I vomited, too.

Ethan has me in his arms, and my mom stands over me with tears in her eyes. I look beyond them and see Professor Elm staring at the contents of my bag, and Silver stands against a bookshelf with his arms crossed.

“The egg…” I push against Ethan’s hold, and he struggles with me.

“Lyra, stop. You passed out! You shouldn’t—”

I escape from Ethan’s arms and scramble to my feet. Professor Elm appears so distraught as he picks pieces of shell out of my bag that he doesn’t even look up at me when I reach his side. I don’t know what to say to fix all of this. If Other Lyra figured out a way to send letters to the past, wasn’t time travel possible? Couldn’t I go back and stop myself from falling on the egg?

“Professor, I’m so—”

“It was a Pokémon egg,” he interrupts in a squeaky voice. He finally looks up at me and forces a grin, but his hands tremble as he holds pieces of shell. “This is a huge breakthrough. Imagine what we can discover about Pokémon evolution if we could observe the development of an egg—at least someday, anyway.”

His attempt to sound calm falters when his voice cracks.

“Professor…”

“Don’t worry, Lyra. It’s a tragedy, but eggs are fragile. The same thing could have happened to it in nature; it’s the reality of the world, I’m afraid. Poor fellow…” Professor Elm drops the pieces of shell back into my bag, grabs the strap, and then stands up. “Are you all right, Lyra?”

I nod, but staring at the bag in his hand makes me want to throw up again. So, I look away towards Silver, who refuses to look in my direction.

“I’m so sorry,” I squeak after a moment. Then I turn on my heel and run past my mother and friend to the outside. It’s gotten even cooler, and the wind has picked up. I press my head against the door as I shut it behind me, and all I can think about it how debilitating that headache was this time around—and because of the egg.

I push myself off the door when I hear footsteps on the other side, and my mom, Ethan, and Silver all pass through the frame towards me.

“I need a minute,” I say.

My mom is the only one who respects my wish. She puts a comforting hand on my shoulder and then heads back towards our house. I know that touch. And she knows that tonight I’ll probably crawl into bed with her like I did when I was younger because sometimes children just need their moms.

Ethan and Silver stay back with me. Ethan is the first one to speak. “Lyra, it was an accident.”

“It wasn’t even technically alive, right?” Silver says. “Or was it? I don’t get that whole thing.”

I can connect the dots—my teachers used to say my critical thinking skills were spot on. I know that the headaches happen every time I do something that the Other Lyras didn’t do. I approached Silver ahead of time; Silver took the Pokémon fairly instead of stealing it; I crushed the egg. That meant in the other dimensions, the egg survived. The egg was meant to make it through.

“What if it’s a sign?” I demand. The boys watch me silently, though Ethan takes a step closer to me as tears spill over my eyelids. “What if the headaches are a sign that I’m choosing the wrong path? That every time I deviate from what is supposed to happen, some consequence changes? Cause and effect, you know… What if the fact that I just _crushed_ that Pokémon egg means that I’m going to ruin everything? Clearly that didn’t happen in the other timelines. And things are supposed to be getting better, not worse.”

“You can’t expect one mistake to mess up the whole thing,” Ethan says. He walks closer to me again and puts both of his hands on my shoulders. “Listen, that Pokémon may have survived in the other dimensions, but to what kind of world? One where Team Rocket enslaves all Pokémon and people? Or kills them?”

“Maybe it _did_ die in the other dimensions because of Team Rocket…” Silver adds thoughtfully. “What if we can’t change the things that are supposed to happen, and that everything that is meant to be will happen, just in different ways… Including deaths.”

The tears stop immediately as Silver’s words set in. I look up at him through clear eyes and feel my heartbeat quicken. True, I still approached Silver, and he still received a Pokémon all the same. The Pokémon may still have died.

So is it all… unavoidable?

No, I refuse to believe that. Being the girl that I am, I _have_ to reject that hypothesis. I’m going to change everything. And maybe it won’t all be for the best, but doing nothing did no good for any of the other dimensions. Maybe doing something now will fix all of this, even if some bad things happen along the way.

“Thanks, Silver.” I smile at him and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. Ethan backs away from me and frowns. “My gut tells me that I have to think you’re wrong. Thanks for snapping me out of it.”

Silver crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. “Glad to help, I guess…”

“I’m going to have to get a new bag. I think I have a good one at my house… we need to stay there for the night, anyway. It’s too late and too dark to make it to Violet, and we might as well stay in comfortable beds instead of walking all the way to Cherrygrove,” I say. I pat my pockets, and then groan when I realize Art’s inside his Poké Ball _inside_ my bag _inside_ Elm’s lab. “Ethan, do you think your parents will mind hosting Silver for the night? My mom will freak if I bring a boy home who isn’t you.”

Ethan nods and waves for Silver to follow him. Silver doesn’t look pleased about it, but he also doesn’t complain. I think it’s been a long day for all of us.

Hard to believe it’s still my birthday.

Might be the last one, anyway. I ought to enjoy myself.

\- - -

After fishing through the mess inside my bag, I pull Art to safety and let him walk behind me back to my house. My mom fawned over him, probably because she wanted to avoid talking about what happened in Elm’s lab. Once she confirmed that I didn’t need to go to the doctor, and after her temporary freak out that maybe I ought to stay home instead of journeying, it was all back to normal.

She rolls over onto her stomach to look at me after we both crawl into her bed, though. She reaches up and brushes my hair out of my eyes and smiles. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks me again. I nod and press my face into the pillow I brought from my room. “If there’s anything you need to talk to me about, you can, honey. It’s been a long time since you last needed me. This isn’t like you.”

It’s not like I haven’t considered telling her about the Other Lyras. I mean, technically she’s their mom, too, in a weird sort of way. I think she’d be worried about them and try to do everything she could to help.

But the thing is, it’s different involving her. It’s the same reason why I don’t think I’ll tell Professor Elm. They don’t need to know. The gym leaders, sure… they can help. Professor Oak, sure… he can get Red on our side. But I don’t need to go around announcing it to every single person I come across, right?

And what’s my mom going to do besides worry for me? I can’t have that—she’s _already_ worried about me.

“Everything’s fine. This just isn’t the way I expected my sixteenth birthday to go,” I say, and I roll over to face away from my mom. She brushes my hair with her hand, and then I feel her lips touch the top of my head.

“I’m sorry. But it’s not your fault, what happened to that egg. Tomorrow’s a new day, so we’ll make sure it’s a special one, okay?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and hold the pillow in a death grip between my fingers. I _do_ manage to fall asleep at some point, but it’s still dark out when I open my eyes hours later. My mom’s snores do not subside, even as I pull myself from the sheets and wobble to my feet. The sound continues through to daybreak. I’m dressed and fed, and yet she sleeps on.

“Bye, Mom,” I whisper at the door.

It’s barely six o’clock when I leave the house. I pull my PokéGear out of my pocket and pick Ethan’s number off my list. The phone rings five times before he picks it up, and a low, grumbling voice on the other end says, “What?”

“Silver?” I ask.

“What do you want?”

My first thought is that Silver likely killed Ethan in the middle of the night. Why else would he pick up my friend’s phone?

“Uh… is Ethan there?”

There’s some fidgeting on the other side, but it’s Silver’s voice again that speaks. “No. He’s still sleeping. How he can sleep through his PokéGear blasting is beyond me. Why are you calling so damn early, anyway?”

“You’re the one complaining that we aren’t moving fast enough. I’m ready to go.”

“Fine. Give me a minute to pee in peace since I haven’t had a fucking moment to myself since you showed up in my messed up life…” The line disconnects as he trails off, and I sigh. This will be a long journey, that’s for sure. But I like to think that Silver will at least make it interesting, even if he uses strong language for his age.

Is that how fifteen-year-olds talk these days?

Oh, how hard adolescence is… except, of course, I’m still an adolescent. But I like to think that I matured quickly, and taking in the fact that girls mature faster than boys as it is, I’m lightyears ahead of Silver.

I wait outside Ethan’s house and sit on the front steps with Art in my arms. Art nuzzles his head against me, and I try to ignore the feeling growing in my chest. I already adore Art in every possible way a person can adore another creature. But there’s some sort of pain that exists, too. Suddenly I’m in charge of another life. If I couldn’t protect that egg, how can I possibly protect Art?

There’s a sharp jab against the base of my back, and I gasp. Silver sits down beside me, and even though I’m looking at him, he’s not looking at me.

“Ethan’s still asleep,” he says.

“Good.”

I let Art go and then stand up. Silver lets Ty free, too, and the two Pokémon run off playing before we can so much as say their names to keep them close.

“Listen, if you’re going to be sulking for the rest of our time together just because you broke a stupid egg, then you can kiss goodbye to working together.” Silver crosses his arm and finally looks in my direction. “Besides, you’re too harsh on yourself. It’s my fault. I’m the one who pushed you down. If I didn’t, the noodles would’ve burned you.”

I’m slightly flattered that Silver cared enough to push me out of the way, despite knowing me for only several hours. But I know, too, that he’s still in this whole thing for himself. He needs me; he knows he does. Other Lyra made sure that our bond would happen. Without me, nothing is going to change.

So, he didn’t push me out of the way to help me. He pushed me out of the way to help himself.

That’s okay with me. It’s better to realize that than to go on pretending I don’t.

“I’ll be fine. I promise,” I assure Silver, and he gives me a hesitant look before walking towards our playing Pokémon.

I have a job to do, so I don’t have a choice in being fine or not. This is all going to work out of the best because it has to, otherwise there will be nothing left to work out. It’s all a little scary and a bit hard to wrap my head around, but this will be okay.

“Okay…” I close my eyes and inhale deeply, and I open my eyes again as I exhale. “Violet City, here we come.”


	5. Happy Endings

My mom used to take me to Violet City to visit the ancient architecture that had once been so popular in our region. Violet retained many of the customs and qualities of Johto that made this region so special. A lot of people my age think that it's kind of backwards and weird, but I always found pleasure in seeing a place so different than the world in which I grew up.

Returning to Violet now, after years of being away from it, is like a blast from the past. The faded and majestic homes hide behind giant walls, but the curved roofs peek out from above the stone like castles beyond their fortress walls. I marvel at it, and for a second, I think Silver does, too. But when I look pointedly over at him, he scowls and crosses his arms.

"I passed through this crappy town on my way to Elm's lab. What's with this place? It's like it's stuck in the past or something. Don't they have anything modern?" he murmurs. When the Pokémon Center comes into view, he groans. "Even that. This is why we can't have nice things."

"It's pretty," I say.

Silver just scoffs and rolls his eyes. I don't try to convince him of the beauty of this place. Everything is so simple and clean, like nothing can ever go wrong here. It's a nice change after yesterday, when everything seemed to take a turn for the worse.

There's a pang in my chest, and my fingernails dig into my palms as I clench my fists. It makes me feel a little guilty to come into this quiet little town and ruin the peace. I can only hope that the gym leader understands that it's not my intention to cause any problems. Frankly, it's Team Rocket who causes the problems here.

A chime in the distance snaps me out of my self-pity, and I look up towards the sound. Sprout Tower looms over the little creak that passes through Violet, tall and foreboding yet majestic and inspiring. I've heard that there are monks there who can tell everything about a person just by looking at them, but that seems a little difficult for me to comprehend. There are so many things that can be said to be plainly written on a person's face, but there are also many secrets that people hold underneath guises.

"We've got two things to take care of and two people here to do them," I say. I point to the tower with one hand and then point in the direction of the gym with the other. "We need to be tested by the monks at Sprout Tower. From what I understand, if you pass the test, they give you something useful for traveling trainers. And we also need to defeat and recruit the Violet City gym leader. From what I've heard, he's an older man but a wise one, meaning he should understand where we're coming from."

Silver's smirk hints more at cockiness than at confidence. "I'll take the gym leader on."

"Well, I don't mean to offend you," I begin, which means that I'm totally about to offend him, "but you're not exactly Mr. Diplomat over here. I should take him on."

"Nuh-uh. I'm stronger than you."

I snort. "Says who?"

"Ty." Silver holds out his arm, and Ty runs immediately to his side. It's strange to me how quickly Ty has taken a liking to Silver considering the redhead's personality. I can't help but wonder what the Ty in the other dimensions thought of the boy who stole him. Did he feel the same way when chosen unfairly?

I don't have to say anything for Art to come to my side. I just look at him and tilt my head, and the little green monster comes sprinting my way with his leaf flopping every direction as he runs. The poor little thing is a goofball and does not seem to take training as seriously as Ty, but I know for a fact that together we're stronger.

I'm just about to shout my first command to Art when someone calls, "Hey! You two!"

Silver and I exchange a glance and then look at the speaker. It's an old man wearing traditional garb and bearing a cane. He waves it at us as he steps forward, so he clearly doesn't use it for its intended purpose.

"There's no fighting in the streets here. You want to battle, then go to the gym or the tower," the old man yells at us.

I bow low to him and gesture to Silver to do the same; he doesn't. "We're terribly sorry." I put a firm hand on Silver's back and pull him down to complaints and groans. "We weren't aware of the rules here. Thank you so much for setting us straight. We won't cause any problems."

"Yeah, right..." Silver mutters under his breath. That earns a smack in the back of the head from me, which begins another chorus of complaints and groans.

When we stand up straight again, the old man has turned and started walking in the other direction. I sigh, then look at Silver out of the corner of my eye. He's looking at me with a distasteful expression, so I laugh and put my hands on my hips.

"All right, all right." I turn to face him, and he immediately looks the other way. "Let's do it this way. We'll both go to Sprout Tower first to get tested and train. Once we both pass the monks' test, we'll go to the gym and defeat the gym leader. Together. No fighting, no teenage angst... just... let's try to get to the end of this with a happily ever after, okay?"

Silver shoots me a dark look and crosses his arms. I didn't expect that particular reaction, since my compromise kind of got the best of both worlds. "You're an idiot."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Come on, just agree to it. Don't you want all of this to finish with a happy ending? Let's make this as painless as possible."

"Happy endings are a farce. 'They all lived happily ever after?' Well, what else is there to look forward to after that? I want ups and downs. I want a rollercoaster." Silver's eyes light up with every word, and I somehow feel my heart swelling. "This is the start. Yeah, I want to be happy, but screw happy endings."

I keep wondering over and over what kind of life Silver has led up until this point to make him this way. He's a pessimist... a glass half-empty kind of kid. Yet somehow, I find hope in his words, like he really wants to change his mind about the world. Silver wants to see the good in everything, but something happened to him that made him hesitant to be that way. I want to delve into his story and figure him out, but it's not my business.

I bet Other Lyra knows. If she didn't, she would have never sent me to Silver. She, and all the other ones, too, know everything about Silver that I have yet to discover.

What kind of guy is he? What sort of pain has he endured?

"Hmm..." I smile and put my hands on my hips, and Silver's eyes flicker momentarily towards me. When I lean closer to him so our faces are only inches apart, he leans away with his face growing steadily redder and his eyes pressed shut. "All right. I want to give you everything you want, Silver. It's what the Other Lyras would have wanted, so that's what I want, too. Get ready to eat your heart out, kid. You're going to be happy whether you like it or not."

Silver leans back in slowly, unsurely, perhaps unconsciously, and he opens his eyes to look right at me. I'm still smiling at him, which I know makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't look away this time, though. We're inches apart and staring eye-to-eye, but this doesn't make me want to stop.

"You're crazy. No wonder Other Lyra figured out how to send letters across dimensions. Only a crazy person could do that," Silver finally says.

I laugh and pat Silver on the shoulder. "Come on. No more standing around."

The inside of the Sprout Tower appears even older than the outside. A beam in the very center of the first floor stretches above, and I step closer to it with my hand outstretched. I can't tell if it's an illusion or if the beam truly sways at first, but I glance up and notice the beam draw closer to one side of the second floor and then move closer to the other.

"That can't possibly be safe..." I whisper to Silver. I touch the beam and feel the coarse dry wood on my fingertips. This massive piece of wood has probably been here since the tower was first built; it's not something as easily replaceable as the ladders or the floorboards.

"Well, they say that skyscrapers are built on rollers because they're supposed to move. Otherwise, they're too stiff and would collapse with an earthquake or typhoon or something. Maybe these architects were just ahead of their time," Silver offers. It sounds surprisingly optimistic of him.

"There are rumors that it's actually a giant Bellsprout."

Silver and I both jump at the unexpected voice. We turn to see a monk laughing at us. He's bald, old, and small, but his voice booms with every chuckle.

"Ah, to be young," he says, and then he walks away.

"A Bellsprout?" I repeat, and when the realization hits, I pull my hand away from the beam as if it suddenly caught fire. I laugh nervously and back away from it. "Yeah, right. Giant Pokémon…"

We make our way to the ladder and climb up to the next floor. It's more obvious here that the center beam moves. There are slight shudders when the beam hits one side and then hits the other. The whole building creaks with our every step, and I laugh nervously again. I don't know why this place makes me nervous. I don't remember if I ever came here with my mom as a kid, but I don't think I've ever felt this weird feeling of nervousness before.

"They battle in this place? Kind of seems like the whole building would fall down if they did…" Silver says quietly.

I don't want to put it to the test, but we have to when we turn the corner around the center beam. A monk waves us over and challenges us. "Hey, youngsters! Let's see how you fare."

It's Ty's and Art's first time teaming up together to take on a challenger. All the training that they did so far had been independent or with each other, and it's immediately apparent that Silver and I have very different styles.

"Burn it up, now!" Silver shouts at Ty. He's harsh and demanding, and I shoot him a look before turning my attention back on the battle.

"Wait for an opportunity," I tell Art. "You've got a same-type match up. You've got to use it to your advantage."

"You're being too slow. This battle could already be over if you just hurry it up," Silver says to me, and I frown. I've always known it to be better to assess the situation before heading in, but maybe Silver is right. Maybe there's not time anymore for that.

Ty runs towards the monk's Bellsprout with a flame shooting out of his back. With a little hiccup, a small cinder escapes from his mouth and hits the Bellsprout. Silver doesn't see that the timing is off; Bellsprout recovers quickly from the attack and already sends a vine off towards Ty.

Maybe it's not about each getting the attack in or taking the time to assess the situation. Maybe it's just about working together. "Art, protect Ty."

Art's vines shoot out of the little beads on his neck and intercepts the Bellsprout's. The two tangle together and knock both of the Pokémon down.

"Silver," I warn. "Be careful. Don't hit Art."

"Again," he says to Ty. "And aim. Don't hit the stupid little artichoke because I don't feel like listening to Lyra whine the rest of the way up this tower."

Ty's hiccup is slightly stronger this time, and I close my eyes. But when I don't hear Art cry out, I open my eyes and exhale slowly. The Bellsprout falls to the ground, and its vines unravel from Art's. Art nudges up against Ty, and I feel a strange urge to do the same to Silver. Instead, I just elbow him and nod.

"We make a pretty good team. Don't you think?"

Silver's face goes red again, and he shoves me away. "Shut up."

It's been awhile since I've made a friend, and I realize that I don't exactly remember how. Is it a thoughtful process, one that relies on my decisions lining up with the other's? Or is it one that is reliant entirely on personalities lining up?

And if they don't line up, what then?

I don't think it matters because together Silver and I climb our way to the top of the tower. Our personalities differ. Our choices don't always make sense to the other. I'm not actively going out of my way to be friends with Silver. But we make a good pair somehow, like we bring out the best in each other. It's hard to believe that two people so different can work together so well.

When did Other Lyra find that out?

There were so many things I want to ask Other Lyra, and so many of them had nothing to do with saving the world. I kind of just want know everything about everyone and anything.

At the very top floor, the whole building sways with the center beam. It’s a strange sort of feeling. The higher I’ve climbed, the lighter my head feels, and up here it’s as if I’m floating. I can’t tell if Silver feels it, too, or if I’m more sensitive to the subtle motion than he is.

My stomach lurches suddenly, and I clasp a hand over my mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. Not up here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a length of rope wrapped around itself. “Look, I’ve got an escape rope. Let’s finish this last battle, and then we can rush out of here, okay? No getting sick.”

I nod and swallow down whatever is rising in my throat. I’m afraid that if I open my mouth, I’ll spew.

The tower elder welcomes us with literal open arms, but neither Silver nor I approach him—Silver because that’s just the way he is, and me because I don’t want to vomit on him and risk failing the test for that reason. So after a moment he just claps his hands together and nods with pursed lips.

“All right, old man, we’ve—oh, shit! Sweet!”

My eyes go wide at Silver’s use of profanity in front of the elder, but Silver doesn’t seem to notice the offense he’s made. He’s turned on a strange form in the corner of the room, and I lean around him to get a clearer look.

Silver rummages through his other pocket and then groans. “Crap. Do you have a Poké Ball, Lyra?”

The fog in the corner shifts or turns or something because all of a sudden I can see a great pair of eyes looking back at me. I don’t ask any questions, but I _do_ retrieve the Pokédex and a single Poké Ball from my bag.

“It’s a Gastly. Ghost-type, evolves into Haunter and then Gengar. See, you don’t even need that thing,” Silver spits off quickly before I can even open the Pokédex. I still let the information fill the little device anyway, since I might as well multi-task for Oak.

Silver snatches the ball from me and wastes no time. Ty lets off a little hiccup of fire that hits the Gastly, but before the little ball of gas can escape, Silver throws the ball and encodes it in data. He crosses his arms while he waits for the ball to lock shut. When it does, he nods at Ty and flicks a finger at him.

“Well, bring it to me,” Silver says to poor little Ty.

I exchange a glance with the elder, but both of us quickly look away when Silver turns around. I smile at the redhead and hold a thumb up.

“All right. _Now_ , old man, let’s—”

“Perhaps, young man, you should learn to treat your Pokémon with respect and decency. That little one will benefit further from having a nurturing trainer. I see that you’ve got talent, but strength alone cannot move mountains,” the elder interrupts. My stomach ache seems unimportant all of a sudden, and I step closer.

“Move mountains,” I repeat. “That’s exactly what we need to do!”

The elder turns his attention yet again to me, and he smiles. “Young lady, might you permit me to challenge you alone? I am quite interested to see what ties you have with your Pokémon.”

Art nudges me with his head, and I take another step forward. “Of course,” I say with a bow. Perhaps it’s rude of me to agree without consulting Silver, but something tells me that it should be this way. A gut feeling? An instinct?

The elder sends out a Bellsprout first. They were easy enough to manage thanks to Ty before, but I think Art can still handle this guy on his own.

In fact, it doesn’t take Art long to knock out the elder’s Bellsprout or his second one. But when he sends out a Hoothoot, I admit that maybe I should have caught another Pokémon like Silver just did. Is it fair of me to put Art up against so many enemies with advantages over him? Does that make me a bad trainer?

I kneel to the floor and gesture for Art to come back towards me. “Art… we need to think through this carefully, all right? I know you’re eager to fight. You’ve got a lot of energy,” I say to my partner. “We’re going to take this nice and slow, though. Okay? You’re going to poison it and dodge as necessary. When you see openings, that’s when you’ll strike with tackles, all right?”

Art flicks my nose with his leaf and then scurries back off to the battle. Somehow, I am a girl of little faith because I expect my instructions to go unheard by my energetic little partner. But Art follows each of my directives carefully, and the elder’s Hoothoot slowly tires itself out with the poison Art inflicted upon it.

When at last the Hoothoot collapses from exhaustion, Art’s silliness returns. He runs over to Ty and tackles the Cyndaquil down, and I shake my head in amusement.

“Hmm…” The Elder walks closer to me and glances me up and down. “Somehow you seem very familiar to me. Nonetheless, the way you battle is wonderful. Both of you are quite strong, so allow me to pass these TMs onto you two.”

He hands a disc to me and a disc to Silver. I turn mine over in my hands, but Silver pockets his immediately.

“Also, I think you’ll do fine against Falkner, our city’s gym leader. If you could handle the type-disadvantage against me, you should be able to manage it with him, too.” He smiles and bows to me, and I quickly bow back. “You’re looking a little green, young lady. I would recommend taking advantage of that escape rope your friend has.”

I hold up a finger and start to open my mouth. “Oh, he’s—”

But Silver grabs the hand I just held up and wraps the escape rope he showed me earlier around our intertwined fingers. “Do you ever stop talking?” he asks me. “This place makes me dizzy. Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch as I strategically avoid writing about how escape ropes work because who the heck actually knows?


	6. Teamwork

When my feet safely touch the ground outside of Sprout Tower, I exhale slowly and hesitantly open my eyes. Ty and Art jump off of our feet and tackle each other as soon as they touch the ground.

My fingers are still intertwined with Silver's, but I admit that I don't make a quick effort to remove myself from his grip. In fact, it may have been more accurate to say that I let myself hold onto him a little longer until he makes the first move.

But he doesn't, at least not right away like I expect him to do. He sighs, too, and then looks at me with those silver eyes of his—probably how he got his name, since it couldn’t possibly be his hair. It's not a cruel expression he gives, but a soft one. It's only when one of my fingers accidentally twitches that his eyes go wide, and he stares down at our hands with some horrified look.

"Shit," he breathes. He pulls me closer when he lifts our hands, but I'm careful not to touch him more than I already am. He removes the rope from around us and lets me go like I suddenly caught fire.

"We, uh..." I rub my hand with my other and realize that I've got a bit of rope burn around my wrist. "We did it."

Silver mirrors my movement, likely not on purpose since there's no ill-intent hinted in his expression, and rubs his hands, too. "Did what? Get a useless item that no one ever uses? We wasted our time there."

"No, we didn't. That was a necessary stop. We were recognized by the elders, and now we're strong enough to take on the Violet City gym leader," I argue. But as soon as the words escape my mouth, I kind of regret saying them. We were recognized, sure... but we both know that the elder recognized me more than Silver. I was the only one who got to battle him—the only one he _requested_ to battle and technically the only one he praised.

That's a bit funny to me because I admit that Silver is probably stronger than me. We worked well together in that tower, but Ty did more than Art did in terms of damage. Art and I were more strategic, thought things through more... but that's not always enough to win. Strength leads to victory more often than not.

Just... not according to the elder. He admitted that Silver was strong but that strength alone was not enough.

"I mean, um," I say as Silver shifts his gaze to the ground. "Listen, we're both ready to take on the gym leader. That's all that matters, okay? So, we don't have to waste time. We can keep going. Right, Silver?"

He nods without saying anything and walks forward ahead of me. Art and Ty are still rolling around on the ground, and I shake my head at the two of them. So young, so innocent.

"Come on, you two."

We trod off towards the gym. The town is lively, with people walking through the streets and shouting greetings at each other from across the way. I bow my head at people as we walk by them, and some smile and ask how I'm doing. Silver stands tall as he walks, and I wonder if he's eyeing people down or just avoiding their gazes altogether. Earlier I would have guessed the former, but now...

The part of town closest to the gym is the liveliest. It's noisy and populous, and Silver and I have to squeeze between people just to get by. "Keep up, boys," I say to the two Pokémon fooling around at my heels. "Don't get lost in the crowd."

Silver walks into the gym well before I break through the crowd to get there. When I walk in, Art and Ty scamper on ahead of me and circle around Silver's feet. The redhead is already bickering with someone in here, and I sigh and shake my head.

"What's happening?" I ask as I get to his side.

"He doesn't believe me that we've already been to Sprout Tower," Silver says. “Apparently you have to prove yourself to the elder before you can even challenge the gym leader, and he doesn’t think I have.”

"Oh.” I reach for the TM from my bag and hold it out. “Just show him your TM."

We both present our TMs to the man in front of us, a short balding fellow with what appears to be bird poop on his shoulder, and he lifts his glasses to look at it.

"My apologies,” he says and steps out of our way. Behind him there is a wooden platform with a crank on the side, but there’s nothing else. Nothing else forward, so…

I look up. There are rafters above us: thick wooden beams crossing from one end of the gym to the other. I can see someone sitting on the beam furthest from us and swinging his legs back and forth. Even higher up, dozens upon dozens of birds fly around, and I stare momentarily in amazement. I’ve never seen anything like it.

“Wow,” I say. “You’ve really gotta watch your head in a place like this, huh? Like, you’ve got a little…” I point to the white smudge on the man’s shoulder. He looks down at it and sighs a little dejectedly.

“Yeah… I’m used to it…”

“Lyra.” I look up when Silver calls my name and find him already standing on the wooden platform. Beside him are Ty and, of course, Art. As if Silver is _his_ trainer… “Come on.”

I whisper, “Traitor,” to Art under my breath when I join Silver on the platform. Art nuzzles up against my leg, and I can’t help but smile. “Come on, now you’re just sucking up.” But I don’t push him away.

The balding man hurries over to the crank and begins working his muscles. Admittedly, with the two of us on this thing, it’s probably no easy task to lift us up. We move slowly, only a meter at a time, and Silver begins to tap his foot impatiently. Of course, this movement makes the platform wobble, and I smack his arm to get him to stop.

“It’s taking forever,” he mutters.

“Be patient.”

Another minute or so passes before we actually reach the rafters. It’s when we’re up here that I realize those beams are not nearly as wide as they appear from the floor below. Each one is only wide enough for one of us to cross at a time, so I can’t help but wonder what happens if someone were to fall from up here.

Silver’s hesitance in stepping forward surprises me. I’m already halfway across the beam towards the gym leader on the other side, who looks surprisingly younger than I expect, and he hasn’t budged from the platform. I take a couple of steps back towards him and hold out my hand.

“It’s pretty stable,” I assure him. Frankly, it feels more stable than the floors at Sprout Tower at least, and he did fine there.

“How are we supposed to battle on this thing?” Silver asks. It seems to be a rare occurrence when Art and Ty aren’t fooling around, but they aren’t now. They both wobble cautiously towards me.

Yeah… how are we supposed to battle?

“Um.” My arm falls back to my side, and I ponder this for a moment. “Well, Art… we’re gonna have to rely on you a bit, okay? If Ty looks like he’s going to fall, you’re going to need to catch him with your vines, all right?”

Art doesn’t appear any more certain about this plan than I sound, but what else are we supposed to do?

Silver finally steps off the platform and walks towards me, and I continue the trek across the narrow beam towards the gym leader. He’s not just younger than I expect: he’s young in general, maybe a few years older than myself. Though, it’s actually a bit hard to tell given the fact that his hair has obscured half of his face.

But he, like the rest of this town, was old in aesthetic. His clothing was not the sort you’d find in stores today, but something that was obviously tailor-made and much more traditional than the clothes of today. If one thing was certain, it was that he was from Violet.

“You’re the gym leader?” I ask. “Falkner?”

The young man nods and holds his arm out to the side. A small Pidgey swoops down and lands on his outstretched arm. “You were expecting someone else?”

My cheeks begin to burn, and I throw one of my pigtails over my shoulder so it falls behind me. “I’m sorry, I just thought… I mean, I was expecting someone older.”

It’s not a problem, anyway. If Other Lyra can leave the world to a sixteen-year-old and a fifteen-year-old, then I see no problem enlisting the help of a gym leader only a few years older. The idea of getting an adult on our side seems more promising, but this Falkner guy is a master trainer regardless.

A master trainer who Silver and I will defeat.

“My dad passed the gym down to me recently. I get that a lot,” Falkner says, and he smiles. The look he gives makes my heart beat wildly for a second. I know it’s just my teenage hormones and my lack of access to impressively attractive older guys, but still… I’ll admit that it’s kind of nice to feel like a girl for a second in the midst of all this time chaos.

“Battle one-on-one or two-versus-one?” Silver shouts from behind me, and Falkner’s eyes move past me towards him.

“Well, I inherited these Pokémon from my dad, so they’re quite well trained. I doubt you could defeat me even with the both of you,” Falkner says. Normally, this cockiness would totally turn me off, but I’m just so allured by it right now.

Until I remember exactly why we’re here again, and I smack my cheeks with both of my hands. “I would like to make a deal with you, Leader Falkner. Should we defeat you, I want you to listen openly to us—because we have to tell you something really, _really_ important that might seem crazy but isn’t. So, if we win, promise me you’ll believe us.”

Falkner looks hesitant for a moment, and then he sighs. “I can’t promise that, but I will listen to you.”

“Great, let’s do this, then.” Silver tries to move forward, but Art and Ty are still standing in the way, and I block the path forward for them.

Well, crud. How are we supposed to do this?

The Pidgey flies off Falkner’s arm and heads up towards the ceiling with the other birds. A moment later, the bird swoops down with a larger partner: a Pidgeotto that dives faster and more dangerously than its lesser form.

I can’t believe they’ll go for Art and Ty in between Silver and me, but I drop to my knees and hug the rafter for dear life.

The Pidgeotto flies just above where my head is now, and I whimper.

“Sorry,” Falkner calls over the flaps of the bird’s wings. “He likes to show off.”

“And kill me!” I shout back. “Silver, let’s do this, please!”

Silver hums in agreement, but I don’t dare look behind me to see what he does. He must point some direction because Ty climbs over me to the other side, and Art follows not a moment after. I can see the Pidgeotto gear up for an attack, but out of the corner of my eye, I also see Pidgey going in for the kill.

“Art!” I cry. “Down, down!”

Even I don’t know exactly what I mean by this command, but Art doesn’t let that stop him. His vines shoot out from his neck, and with one he grabs Ty and with the other he clutches the rafter. The timing couldn’t be better. Pidgeotto is faster than Pidgey, and the two collide right where Art and Ty once stood.

But the little Cyndaquil and Chikorita simply swoop below the rafter and back up, where they land mere inches from the two fallen birds.

“Ember,” Silver shouts to Ty at the same time as I yell, “Poison powder!”

The poison powder takes effect immediately. It’s amazing how visible the poison is in the bigger bird’s eyes, though I can’t help but feel a little bad about it. But there isn’t much time to react; Ty’s ember burns Pidgeotto’s feather, and the bird screeches and flies weakly off.

“Knock it out of the sky again,” I tell Art. “Razor leaf.”

Ty goes to burn Pidgey, too, but that bird manages to escape before the attack. But Pidgeotto, on the other hand, hasn’t made it far. Art’s razor leaf hits it, and it takes a tumble towards the ground. I wince, hoping that the poor bird pulls it back together before it hits the floor.

But the big bird vanishes. I look up and see that Falkner has his arm outstretched with a Poké Ball in his hand.

There’s not much time, though, to think about that. Pidgey comes back in to attack, and the hit connects. Ty goes flying off the rafter, and Silver pulls a similar move to Falkner and saves the poor little thing by returning it to his data-encoded home. It’s not a moment later, though, that Ty’s spot is replaced by the recently captured Gastly.

“Hypnosis, Trix. Knock it out for the night,” Silver barks. His voice is desperate and fierce, kind of like it was in Sprout Tower. It’s not a way to earn his Pokémon’s respect, yet Ty loves him all the same. And based on how that ball of gas reacts, it doesn’t bother the Gastly in the least. She’s smiling as she moves forward.

The hypnosis works, and Pidgey falls asleep perfectly on the rafter. It’s part normal-type, so any other of Gastly’s moves won’t work. We have to rely on Art before the Pidgey wakes up to ensure our victory.

“All right, Art. It’s time. Tackle the hell out of it,” I say. I push myself up to my feet to watch as Art takes control of the situation. Because Pidgey is asleep, we can’t count on poison powder to weaken it steadily over time. Razor leaf worked on Pidgeotto because we already weakened it. But this Pidgey is still strong enough that it wouldn’t do much.

So Art follows my orders and tackles Pidgey over and over again as it sleeps. The bird is barely returning to consciousness when Art charges towards it one final time, and the bird bounces right in front of Falkner’s feet.

Falkner grimaces as he leans down to pick up the bird. “I’m sorry, friend.” Then, he looks at me with a steady and strong gaze and nods. “Victory is yours. You two have defeated me fairly. The Zephyrbadge belongs to you, as does my attention. Whatever it is that you have to say, I assure you that I will listen. Though, admittedly, I would’ve listened anyway.”

“I know. I can tell you’re a good person,” I agree with a smile. I lean down and pick Art up and walk closer to Falkner with my little green bean in my arms. “I’m sorry, Falkner. You probably didn’t want to have to deal with any drama so early into your appointment as gym leader. But I’m afraid shit is about to hit the fan.”

He shifts his head so his hair momentarily moves from in front of his face. His eyes are so blue. “Makes things interesting at least. Tell me more.”

“You’ve heard of Team Rocket, I suppose?” When Falkner nods, I continue, “They’re back. And not just _back_ , back… but, like… they’re going to win if we don’t do something about them, back. As in, Team Rocket is going to be responsible for the deaths of Pokémon and people alike if nothing is done _now_ to stop them. We can’t afford to wait.”

Falkner’s face becomes serious, and his fingers brush over Pidgey’s feathers with some desperation that indicates he believes me. “How do you know that?”

“It’s complicated,” I say simply. “I can’t explain entirely, but just know that I’m fully convinced that this is the case. Things are going to be bad. Team Rocket is already targeting Azalea’s Slowpoke.” When Falkner’s visible eye goes wide, I lean in closer towards him. “Would you be able to send a message to the Azalea gym leader? Warn him?”

Falkner nods and points towards the opposite wall. “Come downstairs with me.”

Silver leads the way back towards the wooden platform. Once we’re all on it, Falkner leans over the edge and calls down to the balding man below us. The platform begins its descent, and I admit that I’ve never felt better than the moment my feet hit solid ground.

Falkner takes the lead once we’re all on the ground floor and gestures for us to follow him. I let Art go, and he scampers on ahead and stays close to Falkner’s heels. That Art trusts him so easily is a good sign; I trust him, too.

“Do you think he actually believes us?” Silver whispers to me.

“What reason has he to believe otherwise?” I counter. “Besides, there’s no harm in believing us. If we’re wrong—if Other Lyra is wrong—then that’s it. No loss. But if we’re right and nothing is done…”

Falkner brings us to a small office in the back of the gym, and he walks around to the other side of an ornate desk, upon which sits an old rotary phone. His fingers are quick with it, though, as if using such an old phone is second nature to him. He dials faster than I do with my PokéGear.

“Bugsy? It’s Falkner,” he says into the phone. I can hear the small sounds of someone speaking on the other end. “Yeah. Listen, I just got word that Team Rocket is planning something in—” His expression darkens suddenly, and his voice is deep and stern when he continues, “They’re already there? Why didn’t you contact the other gym leaders sooner?”

“Shit,” Silver breathes. He continues with several more colorful words that describe exactly how I feel.

But before I can say anything to Falkner, there’s a musical burst from my bag. I scramble to shut it off, at least before I see who it is calling.

“Crap. I need to take this,” I tell Silver, and I nod my head towards Falkner. “Listen to that, all right?”

I hurry out of the room into the empty gym floor. The balding man has sat down in a chair beside the crank, and I think I can hear his snoring from over here.

“Hey, Ethan,” I greet.

“Um, Lyra?” His voice cracks, which makes him sound nervous. I know exactly what this means: he’s received another letter from Other Lyra. “We’ve got a problem.”

Something drops in my stomach, and I try and fail to suppress the panic rising within me. A problem? On top of the fact that Team Rocket has apparently already reached Azalea?

“Oh, no. What happened, Ethan? Is Other Lyra okay? Did something terrible happen?”

“Not exactly,” Ethan starts hesitantly. “It’s just… Other Lyra wanted you to know something about Silver.” There’s a pregnant pause, and I glance back at the closed door that divides me from the two guys.

Something about Silver? A problem? The kid is an asshole and a jerk and too cocky for his own good, but he’s still just a fifteen-year-old boy. He’s not so different from me.

“Silver’s connected to Team Rocket a lot more than you think,” Ethan finally continues. “He’s their leader’s son.”

Well, I wasn’t wrong when I said shit would hit the fan: it all just did at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating. I’ve been quite good about staying ahead in my grad work, but I had a big paper due this week that kept me quite busy. Then I had some stuff for my job to take care of, too.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this story. I know I’m not writing this at a very popular time for this particular group of characters, but I thrive off your feedback. I would certainly appreciate it greatly!


	7. Little White Lies

**Chapter Seven – Little White Lies**

My gut reaction is to freak out and abandon Silver for the liar he is. I want to lash out at him. The many frustrations I’ve had to endure in the past two minutes have become too much for me already. Team Rocket is already in Azalea, _and_ Silver is related to their boss? The spy!

But once my gut calms down, I remember myself. There has to be a reason Other Lyra didn’t tell me such a vital piece of information right away. Even though Other Lyra isn’t technically me, she still kind of is in a weird roundabout sort of way… and I know myself well enough to realize that I would never leave out vital information if it would change everything.

“Read me the whole letter,” I tell Ethan.

“Okay, um…” I hear fidgeting on the other end of the line, and then Ethan clears his throat. “It says, ‘If you’re anything like me, Lyra, you’ll understand. I didn’t want to tell you right away because your trust in Silver would have been shaken from the start. Now that you know him better, even if only slightly, it makes more sense to tell you now. Silver is Team Rocket’s leader’s son. The son of Giovanni. He was there for the events in Kanto three years ago, for all of it, right behind the scenes. Do what you will with this information. Make your own judgments. I trust you. His life is in your hands.’”

It’s silent once Ethan finishes reading the letter. I wish I had it right in front of me so I could read it over a second time, maybe a third, because it seemed to go by so fast that I have hardly any idea what I actually heard. Silver was there? He’s the son of Giovanni… make my own judgements? His _life_ was in my hands? What the hell?

“What’s with the cryptic message?” I ask aloud and rub my left eye with the heel of my palm. “Shoot.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ethan asks, and I look back at the closed door behind which Falkner and Silver wait. Based on the way Ethan started this phone call, I know the path he wants me to choose. He’s not _wrong_. I just met Silver yesterday, after all. How do I know I can trust someone I just met when I know next to nothing about him—except, apparently, that he is the son of the leader of a major criminal organization that destroys everything in every other dimension?

But if this was a piece of information I couldn’t live without, Other Lyra wouldn’t have waited to tell me. I mean, Silver’s _dead_ in the other dimensions. It’s not as if something just happened in any of those worlds that made this suddenly relevant, like a betrayal or anything. Even if it did, I’d think Other Lyra would mention that little detail.

“I’m gonna trust him. Worst comes to worst, I’m going to have to hope that knowing this ahead of time can be used as leverage in some way later on.” I don’t want to hear Ethan tell me I’m wrong or that this is a huge mistake, so I quickly add, “Look, I’ve gotta go. Let me know if you hear anything else from Other Lyra.”

“But Lyra, wait—”

I stuff my PokéGear back into my bag and walk back into Falkner’s office. He isn’t on the phone with Azalea’s gym leader anymore, and there is an air of pure gloom stifling up this space. Silver glares at me when I enter, and Falkner jumps up from where he sits on top of his desk.

“Is everything all right?” the gym leader asks.

“Yeah, it’s good, it’s just—” I look towards Silver and hesitate; he catches my eye the second before I look away. “It’s good. Everything is fine.”

But this doesn’t seem to lessen the tension in the room at all. Falkner’s shoulders relax, but that’s about it. I mean, I already heard the bad news, or at the very least the news that Team Rocket was already one step ahead of us. And one step ahead meant that we were on the same track to destruction as the other dimensions.

“You were right,” Falkner says finally. He walks around his desk to a shelf unit on the left side of the room. There are several Poké balls behind the case, and he lifts the glass in front of the shelving to take two of the balls out. “Team Rocket is in Azalea. Over eighty percent of the town’s Slowpoke population has gone missing, and the few that have returned came back with their tails cut off.”

A gasp escapes my lips before I can stop it. “What?” I demand.

“Slowpoke tails are considered a delicacy, and they sell for really high rates on the black market. There are legal vendors, but those tails usually come from humane extractions. Slowpoke tails grow back, you see, and if removed in a certain fashion, the tail removal process can be quite painless. But black market tails…” Falkner shakes his head, and his knuckles turn white as his grip tightens around the Poké balls. “I doubt Team Rocket is removing these tails humanely or painlessly.”

“Ugh,” Silver mutters.

And what’s the point? What does ripping Slowpoke tails off their bodies have to do with taking over Johto? Does abusing innocent creatures give them a sense of pride or something?

“Here’s what I can do for you,” Falkner continues, holding out one Poké ball towards me and the other towards Silver. I hesitate, but Silver snatches his right away. “I can loan you a Noctowl and a Pidgeot to take you to Azalea quickly. Fly there—as a gym leader, I give you permission to do that. I’m going to make some calls to the other gym leaders and, if I can reach them, the Elite Four.”

I can’t help the bit of excitement of the possibility of getting to maybe meet the Elite Four from seeping into my voice as I repeat, “The Elite Four?”

“I’ve already told Bugsy that you’re on your way. Please try to nip this in the bud while it’s still early. I’ll do what I can to help.” Falkner forces the Poké ball into my hand, where his touch lingers momentarily. “I thank you for warning me, Lyra. You and Silver are good people.”

I smile sheepishly and pull my hand back. Well, certainly, at least one of us is; I can’t make guarantees about the other.

Ugh, no, what am I saying? I’ve decided to trust Silver, which means that any inkling of doubt I have in my mind needs to go away. But as if that is so easy… I guess as long as I realize that my thinking can be corrected, that’s all that matters. Any doubt will just have to be squashed whenever it comes up.

So, I exchange a look of solidarity with Silver and then turn back to Falkner. “Thank you. We’ll do everything we can.”

Falkner leads the two of us outside and watches as we mount ourselves on the backs of his birds. He pats both of their beaks and whispers something to them with his forehead pressed against theirs. It’s sweet, and I wish that I can see the day when I am that close with my Pokémon. I wonder if Other Lyra has that kind of relationship with hers.

Art, Ty, and Trix are tucked safely away in their Poké balls, much to their chagrin, I’m sure. I wish we didn’t have to involve them in this.

“Good luck,” Falkner says.

Just like that, the Noctowl I sit on rockets to the sky. I cling tightly to it and can’t get my heart to slow down its beating until I see Silver in the sky beside me. We both level out, and I lean carefully to the side to look down at the world below us. I realize quickly the mistake that the choice was, and I hug myself more tightly against Noctowl.

“Silver,” I say. My voice disappears in the wind, and I try again a little louder. “Silver!”

“What the hell could you possibly want while we’re getting windburn on our faces and possibly hypothermia?” he shouts back, so I change my mind about saying anything and shut up. He kind of has a point. It is freezing up here.

In fact, I think I’m nearly frozen by the time we make it over the Ruins of Alph, past the forest, and soar high above the slight raised mountain that is Union Cave. When we land in Azalea, I can’t feel my hands, and my legs shake so fiercely upon sliding off Noctowl that I have to hold onto its wing to steady myself.

“I’m not sure I enjoyed that…” I mutter.

Silver has only just climbed off Pidgeot when the bird takes off again. Noctowl shakes me away from its wing and follows after the other bird. I cover my brow with my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. The birds disappear out of sight, traveling much faster than the speeds at which they flew with us on their backs.

“Where are they going?”

“I assume back to Falkner. Though I thought they’d be nice enough to help us out…” I frown, then look around the town surrounding us.

It’s a quaint little village, much smaller than Violet but larger than my hometown. The sea is just south of us, so there is a slight breeze sweeping through the trees. It smells nice, like a mix of pine and salty air. But I would’ve expected to see more people out and about on a nice day like this.

“We should go see Bugsy.”

But Silver looks me right in the eye and shakes his head. “No, that’s just another waste of time. We should go find Team Rocket right away.”

“But Falkner said—”

“I don’t care what Falkner said,” Silver snaps, and I back down. “We’re already steps behind Team Rocket, and I can’t let them win. So, if you want to go see Bugsy, fine. But I’m going to track them down and knock some sense into them.”

I can see the gym in the distance. Bugsy is waiting for us inside. He probably has a plan, some sort of idea on how to go about attacking Team Rocket strategically.

Regardless, I nod to Silver. “You’re right. Except since we don’t know where they are, we’ll likely just waste more time than we would if we just went to Bugsy and asked him.” Of course, that’s assuming Bugsy has any idea about that, which, considering most of the town’s Slowpoke are still missing, probably is not the case.

“Clearly you weren’t paying attention while we made our descent.” His smirk is back, which I admittedly kind of missed. I prefer his snarky attitude to his stubborn one. “I saw a Rocket near the mountain—all dressed in black, just hanging out by some hole in the ground.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Hole in the ground?”

“The town well!”

I’m startled by the additional voice and even more startled when I turn to find a little boy standing with a large net right beside me. He can’t be more than eleven or twelve, but he’s got a fire in his eyes that makes him look quite intelligent for his age.

“I should’ve thought to look there… some wild Slowpoke live in that well, and it certainly makes a good hiding spot.” The boy jabs his net into the ground and puts his other hand on his hip. “I know the way! Follow me!”

“Uh…” I follow the boy since it’s a better lead than the one we had before, but… “Who are you?”

“Oh!” The boy laughs but continues forward. “Sorry. I’m Bugsy.”

“ _You’re_ Bugsy?” Silver demands. Then he snorts and shakes his head. “Johto’s a mess…”

Bugsy clearly hears Silver but doesn’t seem the least bit annoyed. “I may be young, but I’m the strongest bug-type trainer you’ll ever meet! I’m the leading researcher on bug-types and have been collecting data for more than seven years.”

Neither Silver nor I say anything in response to this. Somehow, I don’t think either of us can think of anything positive to say. Me because I don’t like bugs very much, and Silver because he rarely knows anything positive to say anyway. I’m just impressed that he’s exercising such amazing self-control.

But it turns out that both Silver and Bugsy are correct. On the outskirts of the town, we find both a Rocket and a well—the former guarding the latter. He’s barely come into view before Silver stomps off ahead of us, and I know the exact direction this is going as soon as his fist curls.

“Silver, stop!”

My protest comes too late. The guy notices Silver approaching, but Silver socks him in the jaw before anything else can be done. I wince upon the connection, and even Bugsy makes an unpleasant face. Except it doesn’t stop there. Silver steps over the fallen Rocket and pulls back his hand for another hit, and I run over and grab his arm.

“Stop, Silver. Don’t stoop so low,” I say when he glares at me. “Come on, you’re a better person than that.”

Silver doesn’t even see me anymore, though. He looks down at the Rocket and spits on him. When he fights my grip, I can’t help but let him go. I’m nothing more than a dirty onlooker while I watch Silver beat the crap out of a total stranger.

“Hey!” Bugsy yells, but Silver still doesn’t stop.

He _does_ stop when Bugsy lets out a Butterfree that sprays some sort of powder over him and the Rocket. The two collapse completely, with Silver’s cheeks pressed right up against the Rocket’s chest. I can’t bear to look at that sight for some reason and pull Silver off of him. He breathes softly now, but I can feel his heart still beating violently as I hold him.

“What did you do to them?” I ask, looking up at Bugsy.

“It’s just sleep powder. It’s way less potent on humans than Pokémon, so they’ll both wake up in a few minutes,” Bugsy explains. “What’s your friend’s problem, anyway? That wasn’t exactly the nicest way to handle the situation. I thought we were just going to battle it out or something.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I thought, too,” I retort. It comes off way meaner than I intended it to, and I smile up at the kid. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m Lyra.”

Bugsy nods. Suddenly he looks so small and innocent. “Falkner told me. Lyra and Silver.”

“Oh.”

It’s quiet, and I set Silver down on the ground and move to look into the well. Sure enough, I can hear some voices in there, echoing up the sides of the well like whispers. I shake my head and sigh, then I climb over the edge of the well and dangling my legs over the edge.

“What are you doing?”

There is a rope ladder leading down that doesn’t look very stable, but I know it’s a hell of a lot better than taking a tumble down.

“Going to help the Slowpoke.”

One of the two unconscious guys groans. I think it’s Silver, but I can’t really tell.

“Listen, Lyra…” Bugsy begins. He sounds unsure, which is kind of adorable if this wasn’t such a serious situation. “I’m concerned about your friend here. He won’t listen to me if he wakes up and you’re not here. But he might listen to you. Let me go down first, then you can follow when you calm him down.” He smiles then, a big toothy grin. “Like I said, I know I’m young, but I’m a really strong trainer!”

I don’t really feel great about sending a little kid in to face a criminal organization on his own, but he _is_ a gym leader. Bugsy is likely way stronger than both Silver and myself. And he makes a good point about my hotheaded buddy.

“All right.” I climb out of the well. “What do I do about him when he wakes up?” I point to the knocked-out Rocket, who looks to be stirring.

Bugsy ponders this for a moment then gestures for his Butterfree to come back around. “Stunning lasts a lot longer than sleep powder,” he tells me, then points at the Rocket and nods at his Butterfree. I don’t know how his bug knows what that means, but it’s pretty amazing. “He’ll wake up still, but he won’t be able to move for about a half-hour. That means you have that many minutes to tell Silver to chill out.”

I smile at Bugsy’s vocabulary choice. “Okay.”

It’s more difficult for him to climb over the edge of the well, but he waves at me when he does with all the confidence in the world. “See you in a bit!”

He disappears down the well, and I stand up and look over the edge. I can see him reach the bottom, but he doesn’t make it obvious to me that he has. He just disappears out of sight somewhere into the well, his footsteps echoing more quietly and more quietly until they blend in with the whispers.

“Ugh, my head…”

I turn and rush towards Silver. He starts to sit up, but I put my hands on his chest and keep him pinned down on the ground. “Don’t move. You’re in a lot of trouble, buddy.”

“Oh, shut up.”

It all reminds me painfully of the message Other Lyra left… Silver’s violent outburst may just be a consequence of the way he was raised and the genetics he inherited from his cruel father, but it might also be a hint that he’s someone I can’t trust.

“Silver…” My hands are lighter on his chest, but he doesn’t sit up. “I want to ask you something.”

“What did Ethan say when he called? Was there another letter?” Silver asks suddenly. I had actually been wondering why Silver never asked anything about it, but now I wish that he saved this conversation for another time. “You gave me a weird look back at the Violet gym when you said everything was fine.”

I know any hesitance in my answer will be suspicious, so I quickly say, “Things are just getting worse in her dimension. She said that time is of the essence. That’s all. It’s not like I would say that in front of Falkner.”

Silver nods, then he sits up. He looks around and notices the Rocket, whose eyes are still closed but who I suspect is awake now—meaning he probably heard what I said, not that he’d probably know exactly what I was talking about. He will probably think that he’s going crazy or something, which is fine by me.

“Why’d you guys stop me?” Silver demands, and he starts to scramble back to his feet, but I grab ahold of the hem of his jacket and tug him down.

“Because, like I said, you’re better than that. Defeat them fairly, not with your fists. I don’t want you to turn into a criminal, too…” My solemn tone has the desired effect of making Silver settle down, but he doesn’t look pleased about it. “Listen, I want to ask you about that. I know that the Rockets are bad people. It makes sense to hate them. But why do _you_ hate them so much? What makes you want to go that far?”

Realization seems to pass through Silver’s eyes, as if he knows exactly why I’m asking, but he seems to shake off that line of thought. “They’re cowards, and I hate cowards. People who act tough in front of other cowards but are really just as weak as the rest…”

“And your dad? Why do you hate him?”

Silver avoids my gaze completely when I lean in towards him. “He’s a coward, too.”

I let go of Silver’s jacket and lean back, propping myself up with my hands outstretched behind me. “Well, I’m a coward, too. I’m scared to _death_ of this whole thing—like, that I could be responsible for the downfall of our entire dimension if I don’t do something right… I go around acting strong, though, too.”

But Silver shakes his head. “No, you’re not a coward. You’re really brave. You’re doing something even though you’re scared because it’s for the good of everyone. Team Rocket is hiding behind dirty tactics and pretending that they’re tough for the good of themselves.”

My cheeks burn suddenly, and I hurry to stand up just to avoid Silver noticing. Then I hold my hand out towards him without actually looking his way. “Fine,” I say, and he grabs my hand to pull himself up. “Then let’s be brave and go show those cowards who’s boss, right? Bugsy went down the well already. Now it’s our turn to help out.”

I climb into the well first. The ladder feels unstable and kind of worries me, especially when Silver joins on a few feet above my head. When my feet hit the bottom, though, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s musty and damp down here, but at least it’s solid ground.

But the “at least” I hold in my mind fades very quickly as we turn the corner into the main cavern of the well.

“Holy shit, Lyra.”

I trip over something I fail to notice and tumble to the ground with a gasp. Unlike me, Silver has seen whatever it is that I tripped over, and I push myself up with my hands. At my heels, there is a pink blob. It takes me a moment to figure out what it is, but when it comes to me, I pull my knees into myself with horror.

It’s a tailless Slowpoke… but not just tailless. This one is very much dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delayed update once again. I had a great deal of homework for grad school and then a great deal of work for my job. I do hope things calm down soon…  
> (Also, I totally forgot to update here in addition to FFN, so... yeah. That was also some cause for delay.)


	8. Broken World

I look away from the poor creature’s body and stare straight ahead. There’s something terrifyingly real about being here now. No matter what I do differently than Other Lyra, I still can’t save a single Slowpoke’s life. That hits me hard, and I blink away tears from my watering eyes, which dribble down my cheeks in slow-motion.

Silver steps ahead of me, and I turn my face so he can’t see my tears. “Bastards,” he says. He smacks his fist against the stone wall of the well, and I wince at the echoing thud. “Come on.”

I follow, biting my lip to stop the tears from coming. I hate this. Why does the fate of an entire dimension have to rest in my hands? Why did Silver have to die in the other dimensions? He seems clearly more suited to dealing with Team Rocket than I am, especially considering that his dad is the boss of the whole organization.

I wish I knew what happened to him… if I could protect someone—anyone—maybe it could be him.

The well pathway leads into a substantial cavern with freshwater surrounding the walkways. A live Slowpoke raises its head from the water and watches Silver and I, but it dips back below the water when a sudden clamorous burst of laughter sends a colony of Zubats flying from the ceiling. I duck, but one Zubat lands on my shoulder and cries out in my ear.

“Stop messing around,” Silver snaps at me. He throws a Poké ball at the Zubat on my shoulder, but it moves itself to my head.

It doesn’t fly away from my Poké ball, though, and Silver snags another Zubat of his own as the colony continues to fly overhead. Their cries echo through the cavern as they escape the well, and then the voices of the Rockets within the cave are more obvious. I keep my new friend tucked safely away in its ball and send Art out instead.

I can’t make out exactly what the Rockets are saying; there are a few of them here, and their voices overlap. But I think I can hear the youthful voice of Bugsy attempting to reason with one of them. A little boy I sent in all by himself to handle this… am I an idiot, or what? It doesn’t matter how strong he is; it doesn’t matter that he’s a gym leader. He’s a little kid, and these Rockets are going to manipulate him however they can to get what they want.

“Let’s go, Art.”

Silver hisses my name as I sprint past him, and a moment later, he is running by my side with Ty trotting alongside Art. We stop in a small opening by the water’s edge where several Team Rocket members stand with arms crossed. Looking between them, I think I can see Bugsy standing in front of a fourth Rocket with a large green bug by his side.

“I mean, how cute is that?” I can hear the Rocket farthest from Silver and me say. “That Scyther is bigger than he is. We should call you the little _bug_ , shouldn’t we?” The Rocket laughs, and I have to wonder if this is the same one who laughed earlier. “Well, more like a little pest. But one who knows how to pick a fight. Did your mother teach you that?”

“I request that you immediately cease this mistreatment of Slowpoke,” Bugsy says. I put a hand on Silver’s shoulder as he makes to move forward.

The Rocket, the one who seems to be in charge of this whole operation, hums as he ponders Bugsy’s request, but it is obviously for show. “Hmm, how about no? You see, there is a great deal that we need to accomplish, and some snotty-nosed brat is not going to get in the way of our plans. You may have defeated my grunts, but won’t be able to defeat me. Koffing?”

“Art, go show him a thing or two,” I whisper, and Art dashes between the legs of the grunts closest to us.

The Koffing has expanded substantially in its preparation for attack, but Art sends off a wave of leaves that forces the Koffing to swallow whatever it had been building. The grunts spin around and locate Silver and me, and I step forward with my hands on my hips. I know I probably come off as much more confident than I feel right now.

“Nice try there, buddy,” I say to the guy in charge. When I push past the grunts, they let me, likely because there isn’t much they can do without their Pokémon. Silver got it right: a bunch of cowards acting brave in a group. Get them alone, and they really aren’t hotshots.

“Great, more little brats to join in the fun. Can’t imagine anything better,” the Rocket mutters. A Zubat circling near the ceiling swoops down to his shoulder, and the Koffing pulls back a little closer to him, too.

Bugsy gives me a little wave. Damn. I just want that kid to be safe. He doesn’t deserve the fate the other dimensions got.

The Rocket’s eyes go past me and land on Silver, who steps close to me with Ty at his heels. Some recognition seems to set in because the Rocket smiles. If Silver knows him, though, he doesn’t let it show. He stares at the Rocket with the same explicit hatred with which he viewed the Rocket outside the well.

The Rocket’s twisted smile doesn’t fade in the least as he breathes, “I will take such _pleasure_ from destroying you all. Koffing, self-destruct.”

I can see the escape rope in his hands. If that Koffing blows up here in the cave, the whole well will collapse, leaving all of the Slowpoke trapped and the rest of us dead. That is the very last thing that I can let happen here.

I don’t have time to say what I want to say to Silver, so I just pat him on the back and break into a run. “Art, get that Koffing into the water!” I yell. I skid around Bugsy and his Scyther, who both look too shocked to move, and grab hold of the Rocket’s arm. He’s already got the escape rope tied around his hands, and his eyes go wide when I latch onto him.

A second later, we’re both back outside the well. It takes us both a second to react to what just happened, but the Rocket seems to comprehend it before I do. He snatches one of my pigtails and pulls me back towards the well. The other Rocket that Silver tried to beat up has come to, and he stares in wonder at this event.

“Proton, sir!”

Proton, the one holding me, ignores the other Rocket. He smashes my head down against the stone surface of the well. I don’t go unconscious—at least, I don’t think I do—but the world around me flashes. I can’t see anything, but I feel pain and something trickling down the side of my face.

He lets go of me, and I slump against the wall of the well. “I want to watch this one die,” Proton says, and my head lolls. “But we need to get out of here. Get your ass up and let’s go.”

I don’t know which one of the Rockets picks me up, but it feels like I’m floating. I just know that I’m going to die here, that I failed even more than Other Lyra did, but as soon as I’m floating, I’m back on the ground again, dropped without care.

There are words exchanged, or maybe those are just voices in my head. I’m not sure exactly what happens. The only thing I know is that when I can finally open my eyes and see again, there’s a damp cloth against my head and Team Rocket is gone. Two unfamiliar Pokémon rest curled up against me while I sit propped up against the well again.

“You guys are okay,” I say when I notice Silver and Bugsy.

“They got away,” Silver says first. He looks pissed—until he sits down beside me and touches the damp cloth on the side of my face. Then his expression goes soft, but not so soft that he appears to care too much. “You’re really an impulsive idiot, you know that? Team Rocket isn’t against murder.”

I smile. “So I found out.” Then I look again at the two Pokémon beside me. I realize belatedly that they are both more familiar than I first thought. “Wait a second… did Art evolve? I missed his evolution?”

Bugsy sits down on his knees beside me and pats the leaf on the top of Chikorita’s evolution’s head. What was it called again? Bayleef? “ _Her_ evolution, actually. Art’s a girl,” Bugsy says matter-of-factly, and he scratches Art under the chin now.

“Oh…” I try to lift my hand, only to find that my arm feels ten times heavier than usual. I give up my attempt and just watch Art enjoy her scratch. “Sorry, Art. I didn’t mean to misgender you. Do you still like your name?”

Art moves away from Bugsy and rests her head on my lap. I take that as a yes and move my attention to the other Pokémon at my side. A Quilava. Ty evolved, too. I hate Proton for the mere fact that he made me miss all of this awesome stuff. But I also hate him because he tried to have me killed.

“I’m so proud of you guys,” I whisper, closing my eyes and letting my body relax.

“Hey, don’t close your eyes, Lyra.” I hear Silver’s voice and feel his hand patting my cheek—I don’t know how I’m certain that it’s his hand, but it doesn’t feel like a kid’s hand. I lean into his touch and moan quietly because I can’t manage any words. I’m grateful to him and Bugsy, but I don’t think I can say it.

Bugsy’s voice is desperate. “Lyra!”

“We’ve gotta get her medical attention. She’s lost a lot of blood and might have a concussion or something,” I hear Silver say. I can feel Art’s head lift from my lap, and then Silver lifts me up onto his back. My head rolls against his shoulder. I want to tell him to let me down, but I can’t get my lips to move.

No, more than anything, I want to tell Silver that I trust him.

But I can’t. Not right now, not like this.

Not that I have much of a choice. The next time I open my eyes, I’m in a glowing white room—glowing only because it’s sunny outside and the light is blinding against the white walls. The sheets I rest beneath are actually as blue as the sky, but that is hardly the first thing I notice about this place.

I’ve barely moved before a doctor and a Blissey enter the room. “Good morning,” she greets, and the Blissey chimes in with a soft cry. The doctor holds a plate filled with some scrambled eggs, and she holds it out to me. My arms are not nearly as heavy as they were because I can actually grab the plate from her.

The effects of a single bite sweep over me almost instantaneously. Everything, including my head, is better in the world. Team Rocket? Psh, so what. Big deal. Head trauma? Yeah, not really a problem anymore.

“Where is my friend? A redhead, looks pissed off with the world most of the time?” I ask, taking another bite of the eggs. “Oh, and the gym leader, Bugsy.”

“They’re nearby. But you’ve, uh, got a bit more important visitor.” The doctor jabs a thumb over her shoulder and smiles weakly. “It seems the Blissey egg helped you out, but if you’re not feeling up to visitors, I can tell him to wait.”

“I don’t mind. Who is it?”

The doctor’s weak smile persists, growing only slightly wider. “I’ll allow him to make the introductions.”

She walks out of the room with the Blissey close behind, and I reach up to touch the side of my head. I have bandages wrapped around the whole diameter of my head, and the slight pressure I put on my wound hurts despite the effects of the egg. I wish Art was here; she would make me feel a little better.

Hell, even Silver would make the room a tad brighter.

The visitor who walks next into the room is not either. He’s a tall man, perhaps in his mid to late twenties, with red hair a shade lighter than Silver’s. Any pain that the Blissey egg got rid of returns with a vengeance. My head erupts like a volcano, and I press my palms into my eyes as if that might help.

No, this isn’t the pain of my injury—this is the sign of disparity… dissonance between dimensions.

“Who… are you?” I demand through gritted teeth. I can’t open my eyes to get a better look, but I feel the man’s hand on mine. His skin is smooth and warm, his touch gentle. I breathe out through my nose, and the pain flows away with the exhale.

“Leader Falkner in Violet City called me,” the man says. I lower my hands and open my eyes. The man lets go of my hand and sits in a chair pulled up to the edge of my bed. “I’m just a trainer like you, but I would like to help with your cause. It seems Team Rocket caused quite a disturbance here in Azalea, and I would hate to see that repeated elsewhere.”

Something tells me that this man, who wears a rather gaudy cape and speaks too formally, is not an average trainer. But he’s an ally, and frankly, that is all that matters to me.

“Elite Four?” I ask, and the man smiles. It seems like there is some joke that I’m missing the punchline to.

“No, I’m afraid not.” He sits tall in his chair and holds his hand out towards me. “My name is Lance.”

I shake his hand with my left hand because my right hand is attached to wires and there’s one of those clip things on my index finger. I’ve never really been sure what that thing is. All I know is that Lance doesn’t seem to mind my reverse handshake, and he smiles at me like he’s known me all of his life.

But…

No, he couldn’t possibly.

Other Lyra apparently knows him, though, if the headache is any indication. And I wasn’t supposed to meet him this way, I guess. Frankly, whatever way Other Lyra met Lance had to be a hell of a lot better than this, considering I am currently wearing one of those ugly hospital gowns and have my head wrapped in gauze.

“Lyra,” I say and let go of his hand. “So, what’s the current situation? Do you know where Team Rocket is now?”

Lance’s smile turns into a frown, and he shakes his head. “Unfortunately not. They escaped totally and completely, and we lost track of where they’ve gone. I’m in contact with the other gym leaders, and Bugsy has gone to visit Whitney in Goldenrod.”

“Bugsy is gone?” I ask. My voice is sadder than I mean it to be, and I wish Blissey would come back with some of those eggs. I’m slightly disturbed that I was eating a Pokémon egg, but I know that they’re edible. “Shoot. I wanted to battle him. If I don’t battle him, then I won’t be allowed to use cut, and if I can’t use cut, then I—”

Lance reaches into his pocket and retrieves a little pin, kind of like the one Falkner gave to me and Silver. “Bugsy said you earned it. He really admires you. He hardly shut up about you when I got here.”

I frown but take the badge. I never wanted to earn a badge so cheaply, but I really need to take what I could get.

“Thanks,” I say.

It’s quiet for a moment, and Lance starts to get up with a slap of both of his hands on his thighs. But the silence is interrupted by shouting in the hallway, and both Lance and I look towards the door with eager curiosity. I only groan when I realize that I know the loudest of the voices, half because the words are quite uncensored.

“Get out of my fucking way. I don’t care if it’s one fucking visitor at a time, I need to see her now,” Silver’s voice says, and I shake my head. Lance looks my way in a way that indicates that he does not understand the situation. All I can do is frown.

The door to my room bursts open, and Silver enters followed by a couple of nurses and the doctor lady with the Blissey. Blissey is holding an egg in her arms towards Silver, and I want to warn the poor thing that not even a thousand of those eggs would calm Silver’s fury. I really just want to give him a hug, but he’d probably hit me.

“Lyra, big problem. _Big_ problem!” he shouts over the voices of all of the medical personnel.

“Seriously? Already? Can’t I just have a moment of peace?” I demand, and then I frown at Lance again. “I mean, not that I’m not grateful for the time I’ve had to recover already, but…”

Silver comes to the edge of my bed and forces my PokéGear into my hand. “The phone, Lyra! This is important.”

The medical staff are all ushering Silver out of the room now, and Lance gets up, too. “I’ll be back to talk, Lyra. We have a lot of catching up to do, and Team Rocket is likely up to no good—more consequential things than a few dead Slowpoke and cut off tails, unfortunately.”

I nod, and then I’m left alone. I sigh and lift the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Crap, wow, I sound weird,” the voice on the other end says. It is vaguely familiar to me yet different enough that I can’t confirm the haunting thought that appears in my mind. “Oh, geez, this is really uncomfortable. I don’t even know where to start. And I thought talking to Silver was hard… I’m still fighting back tears. I mean… well, because of him and because of other reasons.”

There is a sinking feeling in my chest. I don’t know why—this should be a good thing if it’s what I suspect.

“Uh… Lyra?” I ask. “Like… the Lyra who has been sending me letters?”

“I would say, ‘Lyra, the one and only,’ but I guess I’m not,” she responds. I can practically hear her bitter smile. “Hi, me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, hello other characters. Nice to see you.  
> I’m being ambitious and making this my Camp NaNoWriMo project for April. I only set my goal at 10,000 words, which is only like, 3 chapters worth for the month. But I’ve been slow in updating, and I’d like to pick up the pace a little. Hopefully I’ll meet my goal. Fingers crossed.  
> Until next time. See you.


	9. Meeting Me

With Other Lyra’s confirmation, my heart nearly stops. I know this is an exaggeration since I’m hooked up to the heart monitor and there is hardly a change. Still, that I’m _talking_ to her, not just reading her words or hearing them passed on from Ethan is difficult to swallow. Because I’m not just talking to her; I’m talking to myself.

This is too weird.

“Um, how are you—”

“I’m here. In your dimension in New Bark town. It’s complicated and much easier to explain in person,” Other Lyra interrupts. I pull the PokéGear away from my ear briefly enough that the screen bears Ethan’s name. How is it possible? “I want to meet. I would like to meet in private, just those of us who are aware of the situation, so it may be easier if you were to come to New Bark. Then again, I don’t want to risk Mom seeing me…”

Oh, yeah. I wonder how my mom would react upon seeing the two of us? Other Lyra is clearly a little bit older than I am right now, but I doubt we look so different that my mom would not make the connection.

“Well, I can’t exactly meet right now… I’m kind of…” I pause. There is probably a euphemism I can use to describe my current situation, but if Other Lyra is me, she will be able to read that like a book. “I’m in the hospital in Azalea Town. There was an incident at the well—”

“Old Man Kurt?” Other Lyra breaks in again. The name is unfamiliar to me.

“Who?”

There is a pregnant pause with my simple question. Whoever this Old Man Kurt is, I didn’t meet him back at the well. I wonder what that’s supposed to mean for this dimension? People I should have met but didn’t—then again, maybe it’s people who are supposed to be involved but aren’t. Could it be better this way? Or worse?

“Wait, so who are you there for?”

I glance at the door and recall Silver breaking and entering, though slightly more legally. “Silver didn’t tell you?” I ask. He’s probably out there getting scolded by the doctor without a single care in the world. I mean, with the boss of Team Rocket as his father, I imagine he’s used to being scolded and probably learned to block it out.

That thought makes me really sad. I think it’s the first time I’ve realized what kind of home he’s come from—what kind of home he _left_. And he’s only fifteen. I can’t blame him for the way he acts when he’s the product of genetics and environment.

“No, I didn’t really talk to him much… I didn’t think I could. Mentally, you know?” she says. My heartbeat quickens momentarily. Other Lyra really cares for Silver—at least the Silver in her dimension who she lost. What does that mean for me, who has only known this Silver for a couple of days?

But I hum my understanding anyway because, in fact, I do. I get it. It’s hard for her, the Lyra who lost everything yet still wants to prevent further damage.

“Anyway, I just told him who it was and asked to speak to you.”

“Oh. Well, it’s me who is in the hospital. I sort of got my head smashed in by that Proton guy. The Rocket,” I explain. I hear Other Lyra inhale sharply, which somehow makes me feel quite uncomfortable. “I mean, it’s not really a big deal. I’m fine. Things have been taken care of at the Slowpoke Well, but according to Lance—”

“Lance is already there? This could be good.”

I’m a little annoyed with Other Lyra interrupting me all the time, yet I’m not really surprised. I’ve always been a bit impatient.

“Who is he?”

Other Lyra laughs lightheartedly. I’m glad that I don’t laugh like a complete idiot. It’s somehow reassuring, which I need since I’m in a hospital bed at the moment.

“I forgot. He wasn’t very forthcoming with me, either, when we first met. Told me that he was a trainer like me. Biggest lie I ever heard, even if I didn’t know it at the time.” She laughs again. Do I beat around the bush like this, too? “Lance is the Indigo Champion. He’ll be a great asset this early in the game. I’m an idiot for not suggesting talking to him sooner.”

“Saying that you’re an idiot implies that I am, too.” I’m half-joking, but the other half of me is quite serious. I’m more bothered by that innocuous comment than I should be.

“Sorry. I’m only joking.” But the mood suddenly becomes somber as her voice lowers. “But this isn’t really the time for jokes. I really do need to see you. I just imagine that it will be really problematic if I go waltzing into the hospital looking for you. I mean, I suppose I could play off as your twin, but…”

“So do it.”

Another pause. Other Lyra contemplates this—at least, I assume she does. I know the whole thought process: the uncertainty, the other possibilities, the worst-case scenarios. But I also know that, being the optimist that I am, that she is going to know exactly what to do.

“No…” There’s hesitance in her voice, but I recognize it. She has a better idea. “You said you’re in Azalea, right? I’ll meet you at the shrine in the Ilex forest in one hour. You can’t miss it.”

“But I’m in the hospit—”

The line beeps dead, and I lower the PokéGear from my ear and stare at it in disbelief. I was just hung up on by myself. Is it possible that two people with the exact same genetic composition and upbringing could turn into different people, or am I literally that annoying? Because I’m not really sure how I feel about Other Lyra right now.

Regardless, that’s not my problem right now. My problem is that I need to get discharged in the next forty-five minutes or so.

Shit. What the hell is she thinking?

“Uh… hello?” I call. I glance around my bed, searching for a call button that currently escapes my line of sight. “Hello? I’d like to leave this place please!”

Nothing. I feel my hands around the sides of the bed and finally come across a wire hanging off the side. I lift it up and find a little remote attached to the end, which either adjusts this bed or calls the doctor. Or something else. But I figure there’s no harm in trying it out. I mean, I’m already in the hospital.

About thirty seconds pass after pressing the center button of the remote, and the doctor with the Blissey comes back in without the Pokémon by her side.

“You’re done your call,” she says. She walks up close to the side of my bed, reaches into her pocket, and draws out a little flashlight that she shines directly into my eyes. I wince, and she holds up her finger for me to track. “You look good, and your vitals look good, too. You lost a fair amount of blood, but it didn’t require a transfusion. We had to give you fourteen stitches, so you may still be a bit uncomfortable, and you also sustained a concussion that may impact your cognitive functions for some time.”

“But can I leave?”

The doctor nods. She puts the flashlight back into her pocket and exchanges it with a pen. There is a clipboard hanging from the side of my bed that she grabs, and she scribbles something quickly on whatever papers are there. “We can safely discharge you. If you find that you are having persisting problems with your memory or physical sickness, please visit us again.”

She removes the clip thing from my finger and smiles at me. “Oh, but don’t bring your friend next time.”

I chuckle awkwardly. “Sorry.”

Once I am left alone again, I change out of the hospital gown and back into my clothes. Silver isn’t to be found in the waiting room when I come out, but Lance and Bugsy are. I’ve barely stepped into the room before Bugsy sprints towards me and wraps his arms around my waist. I may have only known him for, like, a couple of hours, but I really love this kid.

“You’re okay! Lance gave you my present, right? I had to go check on the Slowpoke, and then I needed to tell my parents where I was, too…” he tells me. He speaks so quickly that when he pauses, he takes an audible deep breath. “I was really worried about you, but my mom wouldn’t let me come back until this morning.”

This is news to me, yet somehow I’m not surprised. “They kept me overnight?”

Bugsy nods. “Anyway, I saw Silver get escorted out a few minutes ago. What was that all about?”

My eyes narrow. “Just Silver being Silver.”

Lance jumps into the conversation at this point. “He’s probably waiting for you outside.”

I’m a little concerned that he won’t be waiting for me because Silver is particularly impatient, especially where Team Rocket is concerned. But he stuck around this long, and I’m sure he wants to know what the deal is with Other Lyra.

“We may have to hold off our conversation,” I tell Lance. He doesn’t look annoyed so much as disappointed, which bothers me more than the former would have. “Sorry, it’s just… something urgent just came up. But I have a feeling that I’ll have some more details about what Team Rocket is up to right after this. Would you be able to meet with me tonight? Say… 6 o’clock?”

Lance’s disappointment turns into something a little less painful for me, and he nods. “Of course. I understand. Where are you headed?”

“The Ilex forest, I guess.”

“Then will you meet me outside the gym in Goldenrod? It’s not far from the Ilex forest, and I imagine you plan on challenging Whitney eventually. Heading there will be good for you,” Lance suggests. I’ve only been to Goldenrod once with my mom, and I was completely overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place. I’m likely to get lost, but at least Other Lyra will know.

So I agree and say goodbye to Lance and Bugsy. Bugsy hugs me once more, and I squeeze him extra hard. Boys like him make me wish I had a little brother; boys like Silver make me glad I don’t.

I’m halfway to the door when I remember something Other Lyra told me and turn back. “Excuse me, um, Lance? Can I have your autograph?”

I know it’s not the only time I’ll see him since I’m going to meet with him tonight, but it just seems so _necessary_. Like, I’m in the presence of the Champion himself. Sure, I didn’t know that until Other Lyra told me, but it still seems vitally important.

Lance laughs. “You found me out, have you?” he asks. “I’m afraid I don’t have a marker or pen with me. Rain check for later. I’ll bring something.”

Good enough for me. I hurry outside for real this time, but not too hastily because my head suddenly throbs when I walk fast. Of course, I nearly suffer another head injury when I almost crash into Silver, who steps directly in front of me as I turn out the automatic doors.

“So?”

“You really need to learn people skills, Silver.”

He glares at me, which is only a slight transition from his normal brooding expression. “Shut up.”

“We’re going to meet Other Lyra in front of the shrine in the Ilex forest, which is going to be ridiculously weird, but…” I trail off. What else is there to say? It’s likely to be the strangest thing that has ever happened to me.

“She’s here? I mean, I thought it was weird that she would be calling across dimensions, but…”

“In the first letter she said that the methods were unclear of how to meet in person. I guess she must’ve figured it out.” I frown, at least until I notice Ty nudging my legs. “Oh, hi, Ty. I’m sorry. Poor Art has been stuck away in his—oh, I mean, her—ball.”

I let Art out of her ball, and it takes a second for me to remember that she evolved. She’s taller now, and her cry is a little different. But she’s still as energetic as before, because the second I let her out, she’s tackling Ty to the ground in play.

I start off in the direction of the forest, based only on the vast amount of trees in the distance, and Silver follows with quick steps.

“Lyra, I don’t know about this.”

“We’re heading towards Goldenrod. We have the help of the Champion. We’re making _progress_. I’m not sure what more you want,” I counter.

“I’m just not really sure… you sounded weird on the phone. Not like yourself.”

_That’s only because Other Lyra likes you_ , I want to say, but I don’t. Instead, I only mutter, “That’s because it’s not _me_ , it’s her. Other Lyra.”

Silver makes a wise choice not to say anything else. He still sulks, but at least he’s not talking about it. I’m not sure that my concussed brain can handle it right now. There’s too many things to think about being stored in my working memory: what meeting Other Lyra means, that Lance is the Champion, that Team Rocket is still at large, what I’m supposed to do about all of this.

The Ilex forest is dark, with the sun barely filtering in between the canopy. But there is a path cut right through it, with wild Pokémon scurrying here and there. Art and Ty fend them off, with Ty having quite the advantage over the many bug-types in here.

We stop at a dead end forged by a formidable tree. “Crap,” I mutter. We’re already ten minutes into the forest, which means it would be another ten minutes back to Azalea if we are forced to return. “I didn’t get the HM to cut trees, did you?”

Silver shakes his head, and like magic, the tree slices through with the movement. I stare in amazement as the tree falls, shaking the ground under our feet so violently that Art nearly falls over.

“How’d you do that?” I demand, and Silver shoots me a dirty look.

“He didn’t. Mylea did.”

The sound of my voice in person differs from the voice I heard on the phone, but it isn’t any more pleasant to hear. In fact, a shiver crawls up my spine—even more so when I see myself hurdle over the fallen tree. A little sprite of some sort floats along behind me with little wings fluttering, and I feel my heart waver.

“Lyra,” I hear myself say to me. I’m staring, but I can’t get myself to say anything back. “This is really mind-blowing…”

I still can’t get my mouth to move, so I just nod.

She looks just like me, maybe just an inch taller and wearing scrappier clothes. But her features are a little bit more angular than mine, malnourished almost. Somehow, she’s not exactly what I expect to see in myself, but she’s clearly me. It hurts a little to think that will be me if nothing changes here in this dimension.

Other Lyra doesn’t waste her attention on me long. She looks towards Silver, and tears sparkle along her eyelids. “Silver,” she breathes, and she steps forward towards him.

I don’t expect her to kiss him on the lips, but that’s exactly what she does. She puts her hands on either side of his face and plants her lips right on his. The shock is so real on his face that his eyes are wide and his arms flail momentarily. The shock is so real on _me_ that I finally get myself to move, and I push Other Lyra away from him.

She stumbles back but doesn’t even seem to notice me anymore. She’s staring at Silver still.

“Hey,” I snap. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? That’s sexual assault!”

How is it possible that Other Lyra is so different from me? Or would I do that, too?

I look at Silver, whose face is as red as his hair and looks so uncomfortable that he may very well run away. I really don’t have any urge to kiss him right now, and even if I did, I seriously doubt that I would follow through.

Realization seems to hit Other Lyra because she finally looks horrified. “I’m so sorry, Silver. I don’t know what just came over me. It’s just been so long since I saw you alive, and I just…” She bursts into tears, which only makes Silver look more uncomfortable. “I miss you so much! I’m so sorry that I couldn’t protect you! I’m so sorry!”

I want to console her in some way, but this is way too much for me to handle. “Um… Lyra?”

She wipes her eyes and turns her attention back to me. “This is really embarrassing. I’m literally embarrassing myself. Sorry.” She sniffles, then takes a long, drawn out breath. “I thought I could handle this.”

“I know it must be… hard,” I say.

“My dimension has been lost. Not only has Johto fallen to Team Rocket, but they got access to a satellite that has been broadcasting their messages worldwide. Pokémon are being forced to evolve and captured by Team Rocket, and they’ve even captured the legendary Pokémon that have tried to fight back,” Other Lyra continues, and her lip trembles. “My team is gone. Mylea is the only one I have left.”

The little fairy Pokémon hangs behind Other Lyra’s shoulder and peeks at me with its large eyes.

“Is that how…”

Other Lyra nods. “Celebi has the ability to time travel—except it’s not really time travel, it’s the crossing of dimensions, which is the only way to avoid paradoxes, so I suppose that makes sense. That’s how I’ve been getting the letters to you. It’s easier to send little objects like letters than people because Celebi doesn’t have to travel with them. People are different… people are difficult and don’t always make the crossing apparently.”

I state the obvious because I can’t think of anything else to say, “You did.”

“I had no choice. It was stay in my dimension and die or come here and have even a fraction of a chance of saving you from the same fate.” Other Lyra takes a step towards me this time and lifts her hands, and I wince because the whole kissing thing comes to mind. But she just puts her hands on my shoulders. “Dimensions are also self-correcting. I can’t stay here forever. Eventually Mylea will be forced to return me to what’s left of my dimension in order to protect this one.”

“How do you know all of this?” I ask. She lets go of my shoulders but doesn’t step away from me.

“Experiments. I’m not the first Lyra to try this.”

There is a long silence that follows this—a dreadful, somber silence that makes my stomach churn. I hate this already. I don’t want to hear any more of what other Lyra has to say. It’s all too painful for me to think about.

But what choice do I have?

My fingers curl into fists, and my fingernails dig into my palms. “How long?”

Other Lyra shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

At this point, Silver chimes in for the first time. “If dimensions are self-correcting, doesn’t that mean that it assumes a normative path? That everything we’ve been doing to stop Team Rocket is all for nothing because it’s all going to fit itself back to the expected route anyway?” His voice is suddenly more desperate than I’ve ever heard it. That he’s supposed to die hits me even harder now. “That could explain the reaction you get when you change something, Lyra. It’s the dimension straying from the expected path.”

The sinking feeling gets worse. Is this really all for nothing?

Other Lyra doesn’t say anything for a minute, which makes me think that Silver must be right. Considering none of the other Lyras have been successful speaks volumes, too.

“I refuse to die!” Silver suddenly shouts, and both Other Lyra and me stare at him with similarly wide eyes. “I haven’t done all of this for nothing. I’m not going to lose to my dad just because his fuck ups are supposed to lead to my death. I have to live! I have to kick his ass!”

Ty chimes in with a little roar of agreement. Art follows suit and cries out, too.

“If we stop Team Rocket at every point, I would think they would run out of options. That’s why we need to beat them to the punch,” Other Lyra explains. Then she looks at me and smiles gently. “Besides, I’m reassured by something… you and I seem very different.”

I don’t see how this can be reassuring, but I choose not to say anything. It’s Silver who asks, “Why does that matter?”

Other Lyra throws her arm over her shoulder and leans her head against mine. “Because we’re identical. That we’re different means that something is different about this place. I have a good feeling.”

I’m glad she does because I certainly don’t.

“Now… let me fill you in on all that I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twice in a week updates? Amazing what not-procrastinating can do.


	10. Breaking Point

Goldenrod City serves as the pillar of Johto, and I’m still overwhelmed standing between the towering buildings that find their homes here. Even the gym is larger than the others in Violet City and Azalea Town, more modern and more brightly painted than the others. The whole town glows in the setting sunlight, but shadows from the buildings cast darkness over half of this place.

I sit on a bench outside the gym all alone with my head in my hands and my foot tapping wildly in the air. This has been the longest day ever, and it isn’t even close to being over. I still have to fill Lance in on everything.

Well, not _everything_. Some things I don’t even want to think about right now, which obviously makes it so they are the _only_ things I can think about.

The worst part of it all? The things that bother me the most are the least relevant. So why can’t I put them out of my head and focus on the heart of the issue, which is apparently that Team Rocket is far more brutal than they make themselves out to be, and they already come off as pretty brutal as it is considering the whole Slowpoke incident.

But no. What bothers me the most is what Other Lyra said to me when she got me alone for a moment back in the forest. Silver excused himself, I think just to get away from the two of us, and Other Lyra used this opportunity to make herself very clear. Frankly, _too_ clear.

“I’m not going to get in your way,” she told me. I wish it had been obvious to me what she meant, but it wasn’t. My blank stare got me the explanation I really didn’t want. “Silver. That was an idiotic move. I know, trust me. I just really never thought I’d see him again, and when you love someone _that_ much…” She paused there and looked up at me with a grin. “You’re lucky. He’s a good one. I’m envious that you might have the possibility of a full life with him in it.”

“Uh, I’m not sure…” I started awkwardly. I had to look over my shoulder about ten times to make sure that Silver wasn’t coming back yet. “I mean, if you want to go for him, by all means. I’m not in any way—”

“Oh, you will be. I wasn’t too fond of him at first either, though my situation was a little different. You think he’s got attitude now?” Other Lyra laughed and put a hand on my shoulder, which made me feel all sorts of uncomfortable. “He was an asshole through and through, but a product of his environment all the same. The thing is, he learned. He grew. He decided to improve himself, and he became such an amazing person.”

That look in her eyes made me doubt myself a little, but I stood firm in my beliefs that nothing would happen between Silver and myself. I mean, I definitely felt attracted to Falkner—like, I felt it, you know? There hadn’t been anything like that for Silver.

“It hits you,” Other Lyra had continued with that same soft gaze of hers off into nothingness, like she could see her Silver waiting there beyond the haze. “One minute I looked at him and my whole world changed. I can’t even explain it. But he’s gone now, so it doesn’t really matter if I do or not. It might happen again, it might not.”

I wanted to argue back and say that I was different than her, that it wouldn’t hit me. But I couldn’t. So, all I said was, “Sounds lonely.”

And she had looked up at me and grinned that same sad little grin, and tears brimmed along her eyelids. “It is. So don’t let it happen to you. Hold onto him and don’t let go. _Protect_ him.”

And now here I sit, mulling over my future and feeling increasingly unsure of what I should do. I started off this whole thing with my confidence intact, and now… now my head pounds, and not just because of my injury.

Protect him? _Maybe_ I could do that, assuming that this whole thing isn’t self-correcting like Silver believes. I don’t want _any_ innocent lives to be lost, regardless of my feelings. Even with my feelings brought into it, it’s not as if I love Silver or anything. We only met a few days ago—sure, I put my faith in him, but that’s a lot different than loving him.

Trust? Sure. Trust was a little bit easier for me.

“I’m surprised to see you alone. I would’ve thought that boy would be with you.”

I lift my head from my hands and look up to see Lance in front of me. He’s smiling, and clearly joking, which ought to lighten the mood but doesn’t. My head still weighs heavy, and I’m starting to feel tired again from the painkillers the doctor gave me. It may only be six, but all I want more than anything is to sleep.

It’s too bad I have a world to save.

“He went off with Oth—with a friend to go see the radio station,” I say.

I don’t know why I don’t tell Lance the whole truth. He’s the Champion for crying out loud—if anyone should know all the information I have, it’s him. But I can’t bring myself to say that Silver is with the me from another dimension, one that has fallen and one that, when she is forced to return, will ultimately destroy her.

I scooch over on the bench and tap it, inviting Lance to sit beside me. He does and stares at me as if expecting more, and I look towards the black tower of the radio station protruding above the skyline of the city.

“Team Rocket is planning something quite unusual,” Lance begins. “I don’t know exactly what it is, but I’ve contacted all of the gym leaders and have them on the lookout. Supposedly something strange is going on in Mahogany Town. The Pokémon there are quite disturbed by something, and a great deal have gone missing entirely from the wild, leading to a mass extinction event of sorts.”

Oh, no. Were we too late again? What if our action in trying to stop Team Rocket faster was only giving them momentum? What if we were only hurting ourselves—Other Lyra at least had a powerful team once, one that managed to stop a small group of Team Rocket’s executive members. But me? Silver? I have faith in Art, but I also have realistic expectations of what she can achieve. And that Zubat I caught hasn’t exactly had much training either, save for some wild encounters in the Ilex forest.

“They’re forcing Pokémon to evolve.” The words sound disgusting and twisted when they part my lips, but they’re the truth. “They’re using a signal in Mahogany that disturbs the Pokémon and forces them into evolution. They then capture those Pokémon and use them for their plans. They have another plan to transfer the signal through the Goldenrod Radio Tower in addition to transmitting a message to their leader, Giovanni, who also happens to be my friend Silver’s dad.”

Lance is slightly slack-jawed when I look back over at him. Because a teenage girl like me shouldn’t have all of that information, right? Because I should be making it all up, pulling it out of my messed up fantasies and dreams of grandeur where I become the hero, right?

At first, this sounded okay, but I don’t want to be the hero anymore. I want to pass this off to someone more powerful than myself.

“Oh,” is all Lance manages to mutter, and he looks down at his hands in his lap. “Oh…”

“Silver doesn’t know that I know that his dad is the boss of Team Rocket, though,” I continue, “so I haven’t exactly asked him if he knows where his dad is. But from the sounds of it, it wasn’t exactly a happy parting, so I doubt Silver knows—otherwise he’d be at his doorstep this very minute destroying every inch of the world he’s built.”

The words come out quiet and monotonous, and I hug my arms around myself when I finish speaking. I have never—never in my whole life—felt like this before. So useless, so empty. I want nothing more than to return home and start over. I want to be ignorant again. I think it would be easier than this.

“Lance…” I feel tears coming, and I try so hard to stop them. But before I know it, one slips down my cheek, and then another falls and another. A moment later, I’m sobbing, and Lance puts an awkward arm around me. “I’m going to let us all down!”

“Of course you aren’t!” he assures me in a voice that lets me know that he is only saying what he thinks I want to hear. It’s not what I want at all. “Lyra, you did a great thing at the Slowpoke Well. And this information that you gathered is going to be a great help to us. We’ll be able to stop Team Rocket. Don’t you worry.”

“You have no idea,” I blubber. Snot has started to drip down towards my lip, and wipe it with the back of my hand, which makes me feel more embarrassed and worse about myself.

Lance must realize that it’s better not to say anything this time because he stays silent. His hand taps on my shoulder like he’s trying to pat me sympathetically, but it doesn’t really have the desired effect. I just feel worse that Johto’s Champion is attempting to comfort a crying teenage girl on a bench outside the Goldenrod gym.

What would anyone witnessing this scene say? Horrible things, I’m sure.

It takes me about five minutes to settle myself down to mere hiccups, and I wipe my eyes with the same snotty hand I wiped my nose with. “I’m so sorry,” I croak, but I avoid looking at Lance for fear of what I’ll see from him. “This whole thing is just so overwhelming. I mean, I’m only sixteen years old—I _just_ got my trainer license and my first Pokémon. Why has this all fallen on me?”

Lance seems to empathize with this, though, because he perks up almost immediately and shifts to face me. “Sometimes responsibility falls into the laps of people who least expect it. When I was your age, my grandfather told me that he thought his time was up and I needed to pass our clan’s test immediately and rise as the next great leader. I completely panicked and had no idea what I was doing, and it turns out when I passed that my grandfather felt fine and just wanted me to hurry up. But that actually really motivated me, and I became a part of the Indigo Plateau’s Elite Four less than a year after that.”

I sniffle and nod. “Okay, but that really doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

He smiles and clearly stifles a laugh. “On the surface, not really. But having something thrust upon you that you don’t really want can actually make you stronger in the end. That’s the point I’m trying to make.”

I don’t believe him really, but I nod again anyway. He doesn’t know what this is like. Taking over some powerful family doesn’t compare to having to save an entire dimension when a possible infinity of dimensions has failed before you. And if I fail, maybe an infinity will fail after me, too.

Not to mention I have to watch people die.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll go check on the situation in Mahogany. Clearly Team Rocket is already there—I’ll take care of it, okay?” he says. He leans forward towards me so I’m forced to look at him, and I swallow at the proximity. “You don’t have to worry about it. You’ve got a lot of other people here to help you. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

I want to say that it’s not so easy, but I hold my tongue. I think I’ve said enough for one day to the Champion.

He leans back again and reaches into the pocket of his unusual suit. His face contorts as he searches for whatever he’s trying to find, and then he smiles at me when he finds it. “I think I have something that might cheer you up.” He holds out a little golden statue of a Dragonair to me, and I hold my hands out curiously. “Look at the bottom.”

I flip it upside-down. Lance’s barely legible signature is sprawled across the base in marker, along with a list of numbers. I know I should smile—it’s what Lance is waiting for, why he showed this to me now—so I force myself to grin up at him. “Thanks.”

“It’s all I had with me, I’m afraid,” he explains and gestures to the little statue. “Actually, it’s sort of a treasure to the dragon clan in Blackthorn. If you ever make it there and show it to my grandfather, the elder, he’ll recognize you immediately as a friend of the Champion. He’ll help you in whatever way he can, too.”

“Thank you, Lance. This is… more than generous of you. I mean, I was just expecting you to sign my hand or something,” I joke, and my fake grin turns a little genuine. The queasiness associated with such depressive feelings fades.

Lance holds up his finger and snaps one of the Poké balls off his belt. “One more thing. This is for you, too.”

He drops the ball into my right hand, as I hold the little statue in my left, and I turn it over in my hands. “What’s this?”

“A Dratini. Blackthorn is overrun with them, but when they evolve, they become incredibly powerful.” He points again to the Dragonair statue. “But the final evolution, Dragonite, is where her true power will come out. I think if you take good care of her, she’ll really be able to help you. Dragons can be difficult to train, but they are well worth the effort.”

I stare at the ball in my hand, and the queasiness returns in a different form: guilt. How can I have sat here complaining and crying when Lance wanted so much just to help me? I’m such an idiot. He is being so kind, while I’m… I’m just a brat.

“Lance, this is too much,” I say, though I’m not about to return either item. I may be a brat, but I am also a selfish brat who will take all the help I can get. “Thank you, truly. If I hear anything else, I’ll be sure to let you know. Silver and my other friend are at the radio station making sure everything is okay there, and we’ll keep a close eye on it. Keep me in the loop about Mahogany.”

The Champion nods, and on that note, he rises to head out. “That’s my number on the bottom of the statue, too, so call me if anything comes up. I got your number from Falkner, so I’ll keep you informed, as well.” He lets out a magnificent creature from the ball in the first slot of his belt—the final form of Dratini that he raved about. “Until next time, Lyra. Keep your head held high for me, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for my response but shoots up into the sky on the Dragonite’s back. I watch until he is completely out of sight, which doesn’t take long as the city’s skyscrapers block most of the view.

I slump down and close my eyes while I lean my head back. The city is nearly covered in darkness now as the sun sets below the skyline, which casts a chilly shadow over everything. Honestly, I don’t care much about being cold. It’s a punishment for acting so ridiculous in front of someone as cool as Lance.

“I don’t like that guy.”

Can I not get a moment of peace? Ever?

I peek one eye open when I feel Silver’s weight added to the bench, which frankly isn’t all that much. He’s holding two sandwiches in cardboard baskets, and he passes one over to me. I put the Dratini’s ball and the little statue in my bag and take the sandwich. Nothing has ever tasted so good to me, and I hate tuna.

I wonder how much of that whole thing he saw or heard, but I don’t ask. Instead, I say, “What’s wrong with him?” through a full mouth.

“He’s just… too nice. Suspiciously nice if you ask me. I mean, I hate people who are all mushy like that as it is, but he just pisses me off more than usual,” Silver complains, and I smile. I actually sort of missed hearing his whining lately. He hadn’t done much of it since Other Lyra showed up, and I didn’t exactly get much in the hospital.

Speaking of Other Lyra, where is she?

“Where did, um, my counterpart go?” I ask. I know it’s awkward for me to bring her up to him—or maybe it’s just awkward for me because in some weird sort of way I’m the one who kissed him even though I actually didn’t do anything. I’m a bit amazed that he’s speaking to me.

“When we finished talking to the people at the radio station and everything seemed fine, she said she had something to do at the department store. Shopping, I guess. Except she gave me all of the change she had to go buy food, so I don’t really know.” Silver shrugs like he couldn’t care less, but his shoulders are a little rigid when he does that. He’s still uncomfortable. It’s just like me to screw everything up.

“Sorry about her… and everything.” I lower my sandwich to my lap and stare at it. Out of my peripherals, I catch Silver doing the same. “This is all very complicated.”

“Yeah.” There is a pause. A long pause. Neither of us say or do anything. We just continue to stare at our sandwiches without actually eating them. Then, after a minute or two passes, Silver adds, “It’s fucking messed up that you and I were… you know, together in the other dimensions. Really fucking messed up.”

I laugh awkwardly because what else am I supposed to do. “Yeah. I think so, too.”

“You’re really not my type.”

“Mine either.”

Silence again. I can’t help but wonder what his type actually is, but I don’t ask. I don’t want to imply that I’m curious about it even though I am because I don’t want to seem weird. Things are kind of weird enough as it is.

“Um, thanks for the sandwich. I think I’m gonna head to the Pokémon Center to catch some sleep. I’m really exhausted. We can resume our search for Team Rocket tomorrow.” I’m not hungry anymore, somehow, and pass the rest of my food over to Silver to finish. “Good night, Silver.”

I’ve started to walk away already when Silver calls my name. It comes out hesitant, but I can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t want to use my name or because he doesn’t know if he really wants to say whatever it is he is about to—maybe it’s a combination of both, which doesn’t surprise me, as I know the feeling all too well.

“I have something I need to tell you,” he begins. His eyes meet mine for a brief second when I turn around, but he immediately looks away.

“About the radio station?”

He shakes his head. He apparently swallows his pride because he looks back up at me again. His eyes burn. “No, it’s about my dad.”

“Oh.”

Does he… does he trust me enough to let me know about his dad? I can’t believe that. He’s almost let it spill about a hundred times already, though clearly unintentionally since he assumes I know nothing… but still.

“What is it?” I prompt.

He doesn’t break eye contact, not once since he made it. He looks at me, and for some weird reason, I think he can see plainly through me. It’s like he knows I know already. He just needs it confirmed, proven for him.

But then he falters. He swallows, and even though he doesn’t look away from me, I know he won’t say what he really wants to say.

“I know I keep bringing him up, but don’t worry about him. He’s my problem, and you’ve got enough issues as it is.”

Of course something like that would come off sounding completely jerkish when it comes out of his mouth. “Thanks, Silver…”

I wait a minute longer, and the two of us just stare at each other. But he doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t tell me who his dad really is like I think he wants to. So I say goodnight and head back to the Pokémon Center.

I think I see him sneak into the Pokémon Center late that night, maybe past midnight, and I wonder where he’s been all that time. And Other Lyra stumbles in even later than that with a hood pulled over her head, but I know myself anywhere.

At that moment, as I roll over on the couch upon which I sleep, I realize how selfish I really am. The horrors Silver and Other Lyra have had to deal with are things I can’t imagine.

Tomorrow is a new day, and I’ll do everything I can to make things better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, all right, let me catch back up on my homework, haha. See you (hopefully) soon when it’s all done for a little while.


	11. Trust

The bandages are all but fallen off my head when I wake up the next morning. Silver still sleeps on a couch perpendicular to mine, but Other Lyra is nowhere to be found.

I sit up and rip the wrap off. My head surrounding my wound with the stitches feels tender, and I touch the area around it delicately. The pain meds have clearly worn off by now, and I have a headache raging through me. Where is another Blissey when I need one? I could really use an egg right about now.

Hmm… no. Even if I got one, I’d probably give it to Silver or Other Lyra.

“You look like a wreck.”

Silver stares up at me through his eyelashes, which are surprisingly long. He’s got his head propped up with one arm, but he doesn’t make an effort to get up or anything. I suspect that he’ll roll over and fall back asleep in a minute—at least, that is what he probably _wants_ to do, if it weren’t for his desire to crush Team Rocket under his foot.

“You really know how to flatter a woman,” I say. Silver sneers, but I think it is the beginning of an actual smile.

I spiral the athletic wrap around my wrist just to keep it in a spot I’ll remember to reapply it. He watches me, and I watch him watch me—we are both so aware of each other in this moment that the heat gets to me, forcing me to look away. For some reason, Other Lyra’s words whisper in the very back of my mind, taunting me.

“Well, you can’t just leave it open like that. Tie it up,” Silver snaps then, pointing to my head.

I jump to my feet, and it all feels too deliberate. “B-bathroom. Mirror.”

I spend more time in the bathroom than I need. There are a couple of other trainers in there, too, putting on their makeup or using the shower stalls. By the time I finish struggling with my bandages, the room has been vacated, leaving me alone to do my business and fumble through my bag for my second pair of clothes.

Except… it isn’t there. My clothes aren’t there. Well, no, they are, but these aren’t _mine_.

Other Lyra…

No, what has she got planned?

I sprint out of the bathroom and stomp back over to Silver, though even I know that it is unlikely that he will know anything. But maybe the two of them did some conspiring yesterday at the radio tower without me, even though I doubt either of them exchanged a single word after what Other Lyra did to him.

He groans and sits up as I approach, but he looks at me with a weird, sarcastic little grin when he does. “You idiot,” he says. I can’t help but think about that moment last night when he almost let slip to me about his dad, and I want to turn the words back around at him. _He’s_ the idiot for doubting his trust in me.

Still, I know I can be a bit daft sometimes, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. “What are you—”

He slaps his hands on his thighs and stands up like it’s the biggest pain in the world to do. Like it’s an obligation he has to fulfill.

When we stand close to each other like this, I remember that he is a little bit younger than me. He still has a growth spurt to go through, I’m sure, and then I imagine he’ll tower over me soon. But for now, he’s about my height, and we can stare directly into each other’s eyes without either one of us having to look up or down. It’s all very natural.

“I don’t—” I try again, but his touch distracts me.

Silver reaches up and unclasps the athletic wrap, unwinding it from my head. “You can’t do anything right, can you?” he asks, but his voice isn’t as mean as the words. He begins to rewrap my head, gentle despite his hostility. “You leave me to take care of you at the well, and you leave me to take care of you here. I’m going to get sick of it pretty soon, so don’t expect much.” I smile, and he narrows his eyes. His eyelashes are even longer up close. “Stop smiling. You’re making the bandages slip.”

“I think this is the most you’ve ever spoken to me, Silver,” I joke. This comment earns me some silence, and I _have_ to smile now. The greatest part of the silence is that he can’t tell me off this time for making fun of him for risk he might hurt his pride.

He reaches the end of the wrap and pins it down again. Still without speaking another word, he leans down and picks my hat up from the table where his bag remains and hands it to me. It fits snugly but perfectly over the bandages, hiding my injury from anyone who doesn’t know it’s there.

“Silver… did Other Lyra say anything to you yesterday or last night when she came in? My second pair of clothes is missing.”

His hands linger on the edges of my hat, close enough to my skin that I feel the warmth of his skin, and I wonder what it is passing through his mind. He still doesn’t say anything, though. He just shakes his head and lowers his hands only when the realization seems to hit him that he’s still got his hands by the sides of my face.

“A-anyway,” I say, and I take a step back and fall onto the couch as if I meant for that to happen. “I need to figure out where Other Lyra went. Is it strange that I feel like I can’t really trust her now that she’s actually here? I mean, am _I_ that strange?” I realize who I’m talking to and waggle a finger. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

Luckily Silver doesn’t. But I can’t help but feel that Other Lyra is half the reason why he was so hesitant trying to tell me about his dad yesterday—and ultimately why he didn’t. I just don’t really know why, aside from the obvious kiss situation.

But I also like to think that the differences between Other Lyra and me are plain to Silver… that he knows and understands that we’re different. If he _didn’t_ know that, he probably wouldn’t be so close to me right now, physically speaking.

I sift through my bag one more time and then lean against the back of the couch when the results are no different than the last. “I wish she would at least tell us. It’s not like I can read her thoughts just because we’re the same person. I’m sure there are people she wants to see, but posing as me is…” I shake my head, unable to finish the sentence.

 _Is_ that what she’s up to? The thought just kind of slipped out, but maybe it’s true.

“There’s something else missing,” Silver finally tells me, and when I look up at him, I find that he’s pointing at my bag. “When you looked through just now, I noticed something else gone.”

Now that he’s pointed it out, it hits me quickly when I stick my hand back in the bag. “Crap,” I mutter, then proceed to pull every single item out of my bag to confirm that I’m not just searching _around_ the alleged missing items. Sure enough—gone.

“Well, that’s just great…” I click my tongue and kick my bag away from me. “She’s not just a clothes thief, but a Pokémon thief, too. She might as well join Team Rocket. Kidding, of course,” I add quickly, looking up at an unimpressed Silver. “Hey, what happens if she gets transported back to her dimension and she still has my team? They come back to me, right?”

Silver doesn’t answer or give me a particularly reassuring look. I get hit with a wave of panic and start throwing everything haphazardly into my bag.

“Did she say anything to you yesterday at the radio station?” I demand. I try to zip my bag and find that it no longer closes, even despite all the missing things. How does that happen?

“Nothing really. She mostly muttered things to herself and looked like she wanted to cry the whole time,” he responds monotonously. “I don’t know any more than you do. She probably just misses her team and wanted to play with yours a little.”

“And what’s with coming in so late last night? I mean, this is… this is…” I struggle with the zipper again and finally push the bag away from me with too much force. Silver stops it from sliding across the Pokémon Center with his foot. “I give up. That’s it. I give up. I quit. I’ll just let her handle everything. Fine.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Silver says. Psh, as if he hasn’t been guilty of overreacting in the past, the drama king. He bends down to pick up my bag and tosses it at me. I have no choice but to catch it unless I want to be hit in the face. “Besides, she’s technically here because she needs _your_ help, not because you need hers. She’s the one who failed, remember? Just get it in your head that you’re better than her. Wise up.”

Egocentrism never sounded so good, but… I mean, that’s definitely easier said than done. It’s a mentality that I can’t get behind.

“But I _do_ need her help.” I resume my organization of my bag more calmly this time, and pieces fall perfectly into place. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Neither does anyone else. You’re not exactly special. So that’s why we have to figure it out.”

It really bothers me when Silver says inspirational things masked behind cruel words. It’s a gift or something, and I don’t think he realizes what he’s saying. Then again, maybe he does, and it’s all very intentional.

I want to jokingly tell him that I hate him or truthfully tell him that he frustrates me, but I don’t want to break what is already fragile.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and cocks his head so his hair shifts out of his eyes. “Well, unfortunately for you, the only thing you can do now is wait for her to come back. No offense, but I’ve got better things to do than sit around twiddling my thumbs.”

“W-wait, where are you going?”

Silver just waves his hand to me, and I watch his back as he disappears out of the Pokémon Center. Well, that’s just great. I don’t want to sit around twiddling my thumbs either. But I can’t get very far without my Pokémon, and if I walk out that door, it only means that she’ll come walking in five minutes after.

I reopen the bag I just managed to close and take the little Dragonair statue out of it. I turn it over and, at first, only stare at Lance’s messy, completely illegible signature. But then I shift my gaze downward, only a millimeter, and find myself looking at that number and itching to call it. If I can do nothing else, I can call.

Silver doesn’t like him, but I do. _Suspiciously nice_ , he called Lance. No, I just think our Champion is a do-gooder. A fighter for justice.

But I don’t get very far because it turns out Other Lyra has taken my PokéGear, too.

I glance up at every single person who enters the Pokémon Center, just hoping that Other Lyra is the next to come in. But it takes a few hours before she returns, and she isn’t alone. Silver is with her, holding her elbow in a grip that has to be uncomfortable for the both of them.

For a minute, I understand how Silver slipped so easily out of control back at the Slowpoke well. I jump up from the couch and stomp over to Other Lyra, and I grab the hem of my shirt on her and grit my teeth. I have every urge in the world to sucker punch her, to hit myself _because_ she’s myself, but I don’t. I drop my hands before anyone else can move to make me.

“Okay, I get that you’re angry,” Other Lyra begins.

I laugh bitterly, and it’s so icy that I think I see Silver shiver.

“But I was only trying to help you out,” Other Lyra continues.

“By stealing!” I retort. “And if I think that’s wrong, you must, too!”

She retrieves two shiny pins from her pocket and holds them towards me. Then she reaches into her bag, which—of course—is the same as mine, and releases all of my Pokémon from their balls with a very exaggerated sigh. Only I find out that they aren’t quite as I remember them. Art is still a Bayleef, but my Zubat is no longer a Zubat, nor is the Dratini that I _literally got less than twenty-four hours ago and hadn’t even looked at yet_ is no longer a Dratini. I am faced by an unfamiliar Golbat and Dragonair.

“See, I only—”

I lunge at Other Lyra and knock her off her feet. I sit on top of her and try to fight my shirt off her body and screaming all of the profanities I know at her. Silver makes no effort to stop me, at least that I can see, but several other people get into the brawl. I’m pulled off of Other Lyra less than thirty seconds later.

“This is my life!” I shout at Other Lyra as she stands and brushes herself off. She’s staring at me with a furrowed brow, as if she has no idea why I’m so furious. “I know that you’ve lost a lot, I get it! But you can’t just take my life! Those are my Pokémon, my clothes, badges that _I_ wanted to earn myself! You can’t just come here and take it all away from me!”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“You can’t! I don’t want your help!”

Other Lyra reacts now with a fire burning in her eyes. “You wouldn’t even know about this whole mess if it wasn’t for me. Sorry to tell you, sister, but you would’ve ended up in the _exact_ same position as me if I didn’t warn you in the first place: miserable, hopeless, and alone!”

I know what she’s trying to do—I used to do it to my mom all the time when I was younger because it was fairly easy to manipulate a single parent into doing whatever the child wanted. All I had to do was make her feel guilty, and I would have anything I wanted. And that was exactly what Other Lyra was doing.

Was there a point? Yeah, there always was. That was the thing about guilt-tripping; there was always truth behind it.

But the other part was strictly manipulation, and I wasn’t going to play into that right now.

“I can’t even look at you. I just…” My hands involuntarily curl into fists, and I shake my head. “I need some air.”

Art follows me as I start towards the door, and when I glance back, I find Dragonair and Golbat following me, too.

“Just so you know,” Other Lyra says just as I make it to the doorway, “Your Bayleef wouldn’t listen to a word I said, and she convinced the others of the same. They trained and evolved and fought those gym leaders for you. I was just there.”

I want this to be of some relief to me, but it isn’t enough. The fact remains that she took my Pokémon from me without my permission and trained them, whether she was truly a part of that process or not. So, I just shake my head and continue out the door with the Pokémon who no longer feel like my partners behind me.

But I don’t make it very far before a blond and a man dressed in an unusual suit with a cape approach me. “Lyra!” calls the unfamiliar blond man who has a surprisingly husky voice considering how beautiful he is. “I found Eusine. He was thrilled when he heard that you had information on Suicune.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. “What?”

“Eusine. You asked me… about meeting with him…” The blond frowns and then glances at his oddly-clothed friend. “This is him. He’s been tracking Suicune for years, and he was actually already in town when you inquired about him. Frankly, it took longer to follow you here than it took me to find him.”

Oh, for the love of—what did Other Lyra do?

“Um, awesome, I’m so happy to meet you and we have _so_ much to talk about,” I start hesitantly, but I hold up my index fingers to pin that thought there. “But I was just…”

“Lyra, I think you’re being a little unfair, so can we just talk this out?”

Other Lyra appear from the Pokémon Center and stops by my side. Her eyes are on the two strangers, though. She appears far more distressed by their presence than by our little squabble, which makes me oddly jealous.

I don’t know what to make of that.

“Morty! Eusine!” she cheers, though it is somewhat lacking enthusiasm. “I, uh, see you’ve met my twin sister, Lisa.”

“ _Lisa_?” I demand.

“She goes by Lise.”

“This is literally the greatest thing I have ever witnessed. I’ve never seen such a hot mess in my life,” Silver’s voice comes from behind us, and I purse my lips. Yeah, this is pretty much the epitome of a hot mess. “Lise, while you and Lyra fool around doing useless stuff, I’m going to keep the investigation going. So… carry on, whatever, but when you’re done… well, by the time you’re done, Team Rocket’ll probably be, too.”

  Other Lyra waves her hands frantically in an attempt to halt everything. The two strangers, apparently Morty and Eusine, have probably never been more confused in their lives, and I feel a little bad for them.

“Okay, okay, wait. You say that I can’t help you, Ly—Lise—but I can. I really can!” Other Lyra digs through her bag again, but instead of releasing more of my Pokémon that I didn’t know I had, she comes out with four objects that on first glance seem to have no relevance at all: a multicolored feather, a silver feather, a rusty bronze bell, and a rusty blue bell.

The man named Eusine gasps and takes a step towards us. “Are those the true legendary artifacts?”

Other Lyra nods, but she shifts her attention to me. “These can help you, and _they_ can help you. I promise. Just… trust me, okay?”

I don’t know what to say. I look from Other Lyra to Morty and Eusine to Silver. The only person here who I feel like I can trust is a kid who doesn’t trust me enough to tell me about his gangster dad and who I met a few days ago. And, frankly, that is _really_ sad. Heartbreaking, actually.

So I choose not to say anything. I just shake my head and walk away, and I count myself lucky that my Pokémon follow me and not her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boo, I was on a roll, and then I had to be slammed with a busy week. But now I’m on vacation. I have finals for grad school, but that’s beside the point! Vacation from work, just not homework. Good enough for me.
> 
> Also, I am convinced that meeting yourself from another dimension would be the worst thing ever. EVER.


	12. Hope

I save it for Other Lyra to explain the situation to Morty and Eusine, but I know regardless that her explanation will be ridden with lies. All that matters to me is that I am away from her for now.

It doesn’t take me long to notice that I’m being followed, though, mostly because Art is nudging me right behind my knees. At one point she nearly knocks me down, and I turn around to scold her yet find myself unable to do so. Ty butts his head against my ankles, and then the Golbat and Dragonair I’ve yet to name look back towards the city.

Silver doesn’t _chase_ after me per se, but he does walk with considerable gusto towards me—more gusto than I’ve seen from him, anyway.

“You’re coming with me?” I ask him.

“Of course I am.”

The certainty of his statement and that it stands alone without a wisecrack takes me aback. For him, it’s a given: he’s coming with me, no questions asked, no reasons needed, just the obvious.

It’s not that it doesn’t make sense to me because it does. I don’t suspect that he would stay with Other Lyra for a second. I guess it just surprises me that his tone comes off so accusatory. Like, _how dare you think I wasn’t… what, do you not want me to?_

And I do want him to, I really do. So much so that the mess of this entire situation and the combination of such overwhelming emotions gets to me. I burst into tears and throw my arms around Silver’s neck. This action earns me a good shove and a, “What the hell is wrong with you?” from him, and I wipe my eyes dry.

“Thank you, Silver. This means a lot to me.”

Silver gives a disgusted click of his tongue, but it’s the same action that I think suggests his approval of my gratitude. I also think he’s afraid of making me cry more.

I’m actually not a crier by any means. I hate the idea of being an emotional train wreck, and my mom always used to say that I never even cried as a baby. I had an easygoing temperament, and I did throughout most of my life.

The thing that I think is different now is that this is the first time I’ve really faced any challenges, literally in my whole life. And I have no coping mechanisms whatsoever for dealing with all of this stress, which is why it’s stressing me out so much, which just makes me stress out more, and then I start crying. At everything, even good things like Silver coming with me. Because I’ve never dealt with any problems like this in my life.

I need to figure out new ways to deal with this… I can always go with Silver’s method of being angry at the world and everyone in it…

Nah. Probably not. That didn’t work out so well for me with Other Lyra.

“Well, I guess we’ll just do this without Other Lyra now,” I say. “So, it looks like the radio station is all right for now, yeah? So, maybe we should just move on to Mahogany, too. I’ll call Lance and see how things are going over there.”

I reach into my bag, then sigh when I remember that Other Lyra still has my PokéGear. And she didn’t return any of my team’s balls, either, so my poor Pokémon are forced to walk with me this entire way. Perfect. So, if they get tired, I can’t do anything except use my own medications on them because Pokémon Centers don’t take them without their Poké balls.

“Never mind. I guess I’m _not_ calling him.” I look at Silver, who just shakes his head. “I don’t know, what do you think?”

“I think we’re screwed.”

“That’s not helpful.”

We pass through to the route north of Goldenrod, but Silver slows to a stop just outside the gate. It’s quiet out here, with only a handful of trainers roaming around and hanging out. But despite the relative exclusivity of this place, Silver still ushers me with some desperate haste around the side of the gate where no one can see or—perhaps more importantly to him—hear us.

“This is just a gut feeling, but… I don’t think we should get too far away from Goldenrod.” Silver speaks in hushed tones, and I lean in towards him to hear a little better, which only makes him lean back again. “When I was out this morning, I went to the radio station again, and this time there was a Rocket standing outside of it, out in the open and everything. They’re getting cocky—not hiding, just waiting. I think something is going to happen soon.”

“Damn it… but at least we’re here ahead of them,” I say in an attempt to convince myself that everything will be okay. I mean, technically we already knew that they were going to go for the radio tower, thanks to…

Thanks to Other Lyra.

Who also apparently had some sort of advantage going forward with those objects, whatever they were.

She may be a pain in the butt, and I know that she’s just trying to help. But why does she have to be so damn frustrating? I want to accept her help, especially knowing that this is literally a life-or-death scenario, at least for some of us.

I just have to keep in mind that the stakes are higher for Silver, and he still chose to come with me. That has to mean something, right?

I don’t want to keep referring to Other Lyra when I try to come up with plans, but she’s the one who said that the director of the radio tower was the problem. If that’s the case, then something is likely to happen to him soon—if it hasn’t already. Silver and Other Lyra didn’t think it had yet, but… well, I kind of had a bad feeling now. Why else would a random grunt show up? Team Rocket isn’t going to send a low-ranking member to take care of things.

“You’re right, though. I think we should stay here, too, but I still want to try things without relying on Other Lyra’s help, at least for the time being. I…” With a sigh, I pause and purse my lips. Silver looks expectantly at me, and I finally continue, “I want to prove that I can do things without her. Let’s take care of the radio tower on our own.”

I start back to the entrance to the gate back into Goldenrod, but Silver calls my name to make me hesitate. Even Ty prods my ankle with his forehead as if he could keep me from going forward, but frankly, I don’t need much convincing.

“My dad is Team Rocket’s boss,” he blurts. His words come out kind of choked, like he was trying to keep himself from saying anything. And when he _does_ say them, his eyes widen. He seems so genuinely scared by what he has just admitted that I melt—I soften for him, feel my whole being relax. He’s lifted a whole extra weight off my shoulders, and it really wasn’t even my burden to bear.

The sense of urgency instilled within us slows. I lean against the gate’s wall, sliding down to the floor with a smile across my face. Art immediately rushes towards me and puts her head in my lap, and Dragonair and Golbat are quick to follow. But they conveniently leave space for Silver to take a seat beside me, which he does without looking at me.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” Silver continues. Ty hops into his lap, too, and curls up with his head against the boy’s chest. Sure, Silver is a little rough around the edges, but he’s… he’s a good person. He’s trying to be, anyway. And Ty loves him so much that there’s no doubt in my mind of Silver’s intentions.

“Your dad is Giovanni. The one who was stopped by Red three years ago?” I know that I’m playing a bit of a role here, but I don’t think it’s necessary that he knows I already knew. “Do you… want to tell me what happened? Why you’re not with him anymore?”

Based on all he’s said about why he hates Team Rocket, I’m pretty sure I know. But sometimes you just have to speak about these kinds of things.

Oh… can that coping mechanism work? It didn’t really work with Lance…

“No.”

I mean, what else did I expect from him? Silver is _definitely_ not the type to go around pouring his heart out, especially to the clone-type-person of the girl who forcibly kissed him.

“Okay.” I lift Art’s head off my lap and push myself to my feet. Silver ignores my hand when I hold it out to him, and I let my arm hang lamely by my side instead. “Yeah, okay.”

We head back into Goldenrod for real this time, without Silver pulling me back and revealing any more secrets. Admittedly, I’m desperate to hear more about his relationship with his father. I mean, I never really even knew my dad, and here Silver’s dad is a freaking crime boss. Talk about one-upping me.

As we get closer to the town center, I walk with more caution for fear of meeting up with Other Lyra again. But Silver and I make it to the radio station without any issues, aside from the obvious: Team Rocket is definitely here in Goldenrod. Silver got that right, not that I doubted him.

“What’s the harm in just talking to him?” I ask, and I start forward before Silver grabs my wrist and yanks me back so hard that I think my shoulder might’ve popped out.

“Are you out of your mind? We can’t just talk to him. He’ll just go squealing back to the executives, and they’ll be prepared to take us out. We need another plan,” Silver hisses to me. It’s only after he finishes speaking that he lets go of my wrist, but it doesn’t seem like he noticed how long he held onto it.

“Well, what about…”

The idea hits me too many moments after I begin speaking, but it comes nonetheless. It’s probably stupid, and I don’t know how it would ever be pulled off. But considering that Proton likely recognized Silver back at the well in Azalea, I’m guessing that any more executives we might come up against would recognize him, too. Which means we need a disguise.

“You might not like this,” I begin, which pretty much guarantees that he’ll hate it, “but what if we go undercover?”

Silver’s reaction is just what I expect: one brow lowered just slightly more than the other and lips pressed tightly together to indicate his great displeasure at my idea. I don’t need him to shoot me down verbally, like I know he’s about to, because he’s pretty much already shot me down with that one sharp gaze.

“You mean you want to join Team Rocket?” he asks darkly. When I nod, he reaches a hand towards me like he wants to grab folds of my shirt to threaten me, but he stops himself halfway. “You really are an idiot. You know that? There’s no fucking way that I’m joining them, whether as a fake member or otherwise.”

“But Silver—”

“Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, it’s impossible,” he interrupts. “The only Team Rocket member I’ve seen in Goldenrod so far is that guy, and a grunt doesn’t have the authority to accept new members. I have no clue if they have a base in Johto, and we don’t have the luxury of time to go all the way to Kanto to sign up. Then there’s the likelihood that the executives all know who I am… Proton certainly did back at the well.”

All right, he has a point there, far fairer than that he simply doesn’t want to go along with this. And seeing as he’s Giovanni’s son, it definitely makes sense that the executives would all know who he is. I can’t help but wonder if they all used to pamper him and raise him like their own son because of who his dad was.

Then again, Proton made little indication of familial affection when he saw Silver. I’d go so far as to say that he probably wanted Silver dead more than me.

Does that mean Giovanni, Silver’s own father, wants him dead, too?

I stifle an urge to hug Silver and make an effort to change my plan without straying too far from the general idea. Frankly, I think it’s a damn good one.

“What if we play dress up instead? It doesn’t really require us joining, just being one in the ranks,” I offer instead. This gets Silver’s attention, but he doesn’t look much more impressed than he was with my other idea—which means he’s not very impressed. “Just hear me out, okay? It’s like this: we just go to the department store, pick up some clothes that kind of look like Rocket uniforms, and sneak in when they make a move. I think I have enough money.”

“And you think they won’t notice the lack of a giant R on our shirts?” Silver scoffs.

“Paint?”

He clicks his tongue and crosses his arm. He’s looking off at something in the distance for a moment, and he slowly brings his arms back down to his sides. Realization must have struck him, and as long as it’s realization that I’m right, I’m cool with it.

“Last night after you went back to the Pokémon Center, I did a little bit of wandering down in the Underground. I thought I might find some grunts down there. There were definitely some creepy guys down there, but… no Rockets,” Silver explains.

“And? So?”

He shoots me a dark look. Please, as if he has never interrupted me before I get to the point. The hypocrite.

“There are some shops down there, and one of them is a photo booth with a whole room of costumes. I bet we could find something in there that could work, and even if we couldn’t there would be enough clothes in there for us to disguise ourselves.” He pauses, then looks at me as if knowing what I’m about to say but continues anyway. “I’m not saying that stealing is the right way to go about this, but… yeah, we gotta steal.”

“I thought only cowards like Team Rocket steal?” I say. I’m half-joking, but it seems to hit Silver right in the gut. He winces and immediately looks away from me.

“We have to stop them. And we’ll return the clothes after.”

I don’t want to stoop as low as Team Rocket and become a pair of lowly thieves, but Silver’s suggestion is tempting. And maybe we could just explain to the person manning the booth that we need to borrow the clothes…

Yeah, right. Like they would willingly let us off wearing clothes befitting Team Rocket unless they were with them in the first place.

“Okay. But you’re leading this mission. _You’re_ the crime lord’s son, after all.”

Silver pushes my shoulder and mutters, “Shut up.” But he leads the way anyway, and I hate to say that he looks the part doing so.

The Underground is definitely, as Silver defines it, “creepy.” There are people digging in the garbage cans, but there is garbage spread across the floor all over the place. There are plenty of booths with workers, and an old woman gives us a toothy smile and a wave as we pass by. Something about the way she eyes us makes me shiver.

“Uh, where is this photo booth?” I whisper to Silver, and he gives a little nod forward.

“Just there.”

There is a flash of light, and I step so that Art, Golbat, and Dragonair are all close to me. Ahead of us I can see a Voltorb fainted on the ground, suffering from a likely self-destruct that thankfully didn’t blow the whole Underground up.

“Do these people think? That’s so dangerous,” I mutter. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Silver grin.

We walk around a corner into a little alcove where a camera is set up facing an old tiled wall. It’s not the most beautiful place to take a picture, but I doubt that this is the point of it, anyway. In the corner of the alcove, just in front of the desk with the cash register, the real point of the photo booth awaits: the dressing room.

And no one is manning the booth. No one is stopping us from entering.

“Where is the photographer?” I ask.

Silver shrugs. “Who cares? Let’s grab some costumes and get out of here.”

We stealth our ways into the dressing room—and by stealth, I mean we walk in like normal—and begin digging around the piles of clothes. There are also picture frames all around the room showcasing the wide variety of trainers and costumes and Pokémon that have taken pictures at the photo booth.

I admit I get a bit distracted by the pictures and begin looking at each one down the row, side-stepping around the room until I reach a picture frame hidden behind a rack of clothes.

“Lyra. Shit, Lyra, we hit the jackpot,” I hear Silver say just as I push the clothes out of my way to get to the picture frame. It’s a photo of a young woman with blue hair dressed up in… a Rocket uniform?

Silver taps me on the shoulder, and I let the clothes on the rack cover the photo again. When I turn around, he presents me with the whole shebang: boots, a skirt, a shirt, a hat, even a belt—none of which are in my size, but it’s proof of something great nonetheless.

“Where’d you find these?” I ask. Silver directs me to a whole pile of Rocket uniforms, all a little bit ratty but still useable. “Are these current?”

“They’re definitely not the ones that were used back in Kanto, so that’s a good sign.” Silver digs further into the pile of black clothes and finds a shirt in his size. “I just need to find a pair of boots now…”

“You know, these are kind of stylish,” I admit, and Silver halts his search just to glare at me. “I’m kidding. But I wouldn’t mind keeping the boots.”

He finds a pair of boots and holds the uniform in his arms with some hesitancy. And I know that this is my moment to say something to him, to show him that I support him no matter what and no matter who he is, but I can’t find the words to say. I kind of just want him to accept himself, which I don’t think he has yet.

“Close your eyes. I’m gonna change,” he snaps at me, and then he stands up and walks out of my line of sight. I don’t close my eyes, but I don’t peek either.

A minute later, Silver sits back down beside me and huffs. He looks uncomfortable, though that is likely an understatement. He’s kept his jacket on probably because the uniform bothers him so much.

I would say that the look suits him, what with his brooding eyes and pouty features, but I think I understand him too well at this point to agree with that judgment. He is so disgusted with himself right now that I can’t bring myself to admit that this could have been him in another life. Maybe in another dimension he _is_ a Rocket.

“I hate seeing you like that,” I tell him, and he squeezes his t-shirt and pants in his tightening grip.

“Join the club.”

“Did you have a uniform back in Kanto?” I’ve found the last piece of the uniform, but I hold the clothes on my lap and face Silver.

He shakes his head. “My dad thought I was too immature and couldn’t handle the pressure. He didn’t really give me any responsibilities. ‘The uniform is a burden you’re not ready to bear,’ he told me one time. Pfft, as if I even asked for it… I didn’t.”

“You know, when this is all done, you can probably stay with Ethan or me… at one of our houses. U-until you get settled. Or something,” I say awkwardly.

But Silver laughs. “What are you implying? I’m only fifteen. Think I’m ready to buy my own house, get a nice job?”

I blush and shake my head quickly. That’s not really what I meant, but at least he didn’t take it any other way. I refuse to say now that I only wanted to help him because I didn’t want him to make fun of me any more for that.

“I’m going to get dressed…” I mutter, and I rise to my feet. “Go out in the hallway. I’ll come out when I’m done changing.”

Silver sighs but hurries out all the same. It takes me a bit longer to get the slim-fitting women’s Rocket uniform on than it took Silver to put his on. It’s snug on my hips and contours to my breasts, which makes me wonder if who is more uncomfortable—me or him? Plus, the skirt is so ridiculously short that if I bend over, the world will see my underwear.

I step out and clear my throat. Silver turns around and looks me up and down. He frowns, as if this is something new, and says, “You look too nice to play the part. But I guess you’ll do.”

And then it happens again. My head erupts. It’s brief, as my body cannot withstand the pain and collapses altogether. It’s not so very different than last time: Silver is holding me again when I open my eyes. But then the pain hits again. I curl into Silver’s body, unintentionally pressing my face against his ribcage. My fingers latch onto his jacket, but the pain is a silent killer. I can’t even bear a scream.

“Lyra. Lyra, come on, snap out of it.” His voice is short and quick, indicative of panic.

I don’t want him to have to take care of me. I can take care of myself. But trying to deal with this pain, this burden, I’m not sure that it’s something I can handle on my own. Somehow it hurts a little less having him near me, even if the pain is still unbearable.

“Why is it lasting so much longer this time?”

My fingers loosen on his jacket as the pain subsides. I roll slightly so my face isn’t flat against his chest, but I don’t move off of him completely. It proves difficult for me to catch my breath right away, but I manage eventually.

“You’re okay. You’re all right.” Silver lifts me enough that he can slide his jacket off, then he tosses it over my shoulders.

I’m sobbing by now. Did Other Lyra have to deal with this pain, too? Why didn’t Silver, if he was part of this, too? Because his other self was dead already? So did this happen to me because there is still hope?

Did hope have to hurt like this?

“Come on, we need to get out of here.” Silver helps me get to my feet. He gestures for Dragonair to come closer, and she slithers under my arm and holds me up with her head. It’s amazing that a Pokémon I barely know will be so loyal and kind to me.

Is fate responsible for that?

“It’ll be better if no one notices us get out of here. Ty, give us a smokescreen.”

We’re covered by a foggy black veil, and Silver and Dragonair help me out of the Underground unnoticed. It’s only when we’re out in the aboveground that I feel totally in control of myself again, and I wipe my forehead.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“No.”

“But I’m really sorry—”

“Shut it.”

I do, and I stare down at the cobblestone ground in shame. I wish I could stop the sudden headaches, but I can’t. I haven’t figured out how.

“It’s not your fault,” Silver adds after a moment, and I glance back up from the ground. “So stop apologizing for it.”

He walks away with determined steps towards the radio tower. The sad thing is, I’m not sure that I have nearly as much hope as that pessimistic guy in front of me has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll admit that any time I refer to Poké balls, I have my mind in the gutter 100%, and I am deeply ashamed.  
> In other news, I finished my first semester of grad school. Yay! But only two weeks until my next semester starts. Goodbye wallet.


	13. On the Battlefront

I feel like a criminal walking the streets dressed like this, but I guess that’s the point of the whole thing. Still, it isn’t really a nice feeling to get glared at by strangers. One middle-aged woman even shook her head and muttered under her breath, “So young… disgusting.”

I step closer to Silver and keep my eyes towards the ground. Art keeps looking up at me with some trepidation, which makes me even more uncomfortable. Even she understands the danger in all of this, and I think my team’s trust in me is wavering slightly while I look like a Rocket. It hurts a little bit.

And they aren’t the only ones. Silver won’t even look my direction anymore. Whether that is because of my dimensional panic attack or because I’m currently dressed as the very type of person he hates most in the world, I’m not sure. But when I told him that I hated seeing him like this, he probably wanted to tell me the same thing. I mean, he probably doesn’t like me that much after having to babysit me so often, but this probably puts him over the edge.

We stop just around the corner from the radio tower, and Silver gestures for me to come closer. He still doesn’t look at me when he says, “You’re going to need to put Art and the dragon away. Rocket grunts as young as us would never have them, but we’ll still need them later. The Golbat and Trix will do for now.” He sends Ty back into his ball and releases his Gastly instead, but I don’t have that luxury right now, seeing as Other Lyra still has my stuff.

When Silver realizes why I’m not doing anything, he rolls his eyes and grunts with annoyance. “She’s so annoying…”

“Do you think I can put them in some empty ones I have?” I reach into my bag and pull out a couple of balls that I planned to use later. I don’t really have that much money to buy more later, but this is more important. I suppose it’s worth a shot…

I toss them, but the balls merely deflect off Art and the Dragonair. I sigh, which earns me my first direct look from Silver in the past fifteen minutes. It’s not exactly the one I want to see either. Because I can tell from that one glance exactly what he’s suggesting, and I shake my head with firm resolve against him.

“No, no, absolutely not. I’m not going to see Other Lyra, especially when I’m dressed like this. I mean, for all I know, she could still be with Morty and Eusine, and I would hate for them to see me like this even more than her… Morty is a gym leader after all, and we’re trying to…” I trail off, and Silver crosses his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m not doing it. I can do this without her.”

“And what about them?” He nods towards Art and Dragonair, who stare curiously up at him.

I frown. My brow furrows as I try to come up with another plan. If I do say so myself, I have been pretty on top of things when it comes to making a plan B in the past couple of hours. But what can I do in this case?

Well…

“What if I release them and then recapture them?”

Silver appears mildly impressed given his contemplative head tilt. “I suppose.” Then he suddenly snaps his fingers and shakes his head. He gives a little smirk as he shoots down my plan in his mind, as if it pleases him to piss me off. Damn him. “No, can’t do that. You need to digitalize them in the PC to do that, which requires…”

“Oh, come on. What did people do in the olden days before these technological advancements, huh? They just said, ‘Oh, bye-bye, Art, you’re going into the wild now.’ So it’s BS that I can’t do it without getting my stuff back from Other Lyra.” I turn to Art, Dragonair, and Golbat with my hands on my hips. “All right, I’m setting you free. Temporarily. You’re no longer mine. Temporarily. Got it?”

The three of them blink at me, and then Art takes a step closer to me and nudges my shin.

“Did it work?” I ask Silver, and he shrugs.

“Dunno.”

I reattempt capturing them. I squeeze my eyes shut the second the Poké balls leave my hands because I don’t want to see it fail a second time. Apparently, though, it doesn’t. Silver taps me on the shoulder after a quiet moment passes, and I open my eyes to find my team gone and three Poké balls on the ground.

“Nice!” I bend down to pick them up. Art and the Dragonair go inside my bag, where they will hopefully stay this time without being stolen, but I let Golbat out again. “Well, that was surprisingly easy yet still a complete pain.”

“Good, now hurry up. Let’s go talk to the grunt.”

Silver doesn’t joke around when he says to hurry up. By the time I get my bearings, he’s already closed half the distance between us and the grunt. I jog to catch up, which brings us right to the grunt outside of the radio station. He doesn’t appear to notice we have approached him… At least until Trix goes right up to his ear and laughs. The grunt jumps nearly a foot in the air and then looks cautiously towards us.

“Good golly, what was that for?” the grunt squeaks. He notices our uniforms a second after and grins, all fear forgotten. “Oh, the operation is on now, huh? Is Ariana back from Mahogany? Proton has been here for a while, but he said to wait for Ariana.”

“Yeah, she got back a little while ago and said to get things started,” Silver says. He sounds so official and confident, like he’s done this before. I guess being the boss’s son, he probably has, but I don’t like to think of it like that.

But I try not to think on that too long. More important is that the grunt has told us some very important information. Proton, the one who we met at the Slowpoke well, is already here—and not just that, but he’s been here for a while. I have to suspect that when Other Lyra and Silver checked out the situation here before that things were already underway for the Rockets. Which then makes me wonder… what?

Other Lyra knows. She knows exactly what Proton’s role is here, and she knows that Ariana lady, too. But I’m going to do this by my own strength, not hers.

“It seems like if things were ready that we’d have more people here. It’s a pretty big radio station, dude,” the grunt says. To be fair, the guy has a point. I have zero idea about how to retort, but I’m sure that Silver’s got it all figured out.

“They’re coming, but Ariana sent us up to get the ground floor taken care of so that the rest of the team would have an easier time infiltrating the rest of the building. They should be here shortly,” Silver tells the grunt, and I nod beside him. He sounds so legitimate that it’s actually quite scary. I want to reach out and shake it away from him.

The man holds out his arm in a grand gesture to the radio tower. “After you, then. I look forward to victory.”

“Same,” Silver mutters. It’s cold as ice and almost too bitter to handle, but the grunt doesn’t react to that word the same as I do. His smile admits some awe or admiration.

We walk into the radio tower like normal visitors and just stroll right up to the front desk. The receptionist takes a second to look up, but when she does, her lip starts to tremble and her eyes go wide. Her gaze flickers between Silver, Golbat, Gastly, and me, then rests on Silver. He looks the scariest by far, I’m sure. I wonder how he feels about that.

But then his face softens, and he leans down on the countertop towards the receptionist without a grimace. He’s not smiling by any means, but he’s also not giving his normal frown either.

“Don’t worry. We’re here to help.”

The receptionist does not seem to believe him based on her wince away from the blow of his breath as he speaks and her whimper when he stops. He stands back up straight and looks at me. Does he really want to rely on me for help right now? I feel like I don’t really know what I’m doing, which admittedly is how I’ve felt since day one of this crap mission, but still…

“Please,” I say to the young woman. She has mousy hair and a delicate complexion: the perfect girl to sit at the front of the radio tower. Beautiful and sweet, hardly intimidating for customers. She is a pleasant first impression of this business. Anyone harsher might be a turn-off for visitors and, therefore, potential listeners of their stations.

And it’s not to say that she’s not a strong individual. Maybe she knows a thing or two about battling and can hold her own. But she hardly _looks_ the role of guard, though I realize I’m stereotyping in the worst sort of way.

However, given her petrified response to our appearance and her whimper, I don’t expect that she will be the one to give Team Rocket a hard time when they actually show up.

That means, though, that Proton probably showed up the same way we did: undercover, albeit likely dressed in street clothes rather than a Rocket uniform. If she’s scared of us, there is no way she wouldn’t have noticed Proton, who is far scarier than either one of us. Then again, he’s a little… well, more attractive to the eye.

Not that Silver isn’t attractive. He kind of is.

“We have reason to believe that Team Rocket has already infiltrated this building, and we’re here to stop them. But in order to earn their trust, this—” I gesture to our outfits “—was a necessary precaution. I assure you that we are not the enemy here, so please do not fear us. The only thing was can ask for is your cooperation.”

“T-this is a trick,” the receptionist cries. By this time, the other women at the front desk have noticed us. The closest one jumps to her feet and holds her fists up like she wants to fight us. I can respect that.

“It’s not a trick. Look.” I pull my hat off and tug Silver’s off his head. “We were just here recently. Don’t you recognize us?”

I mean, _I_ wasn’t here, but Other Lyra was. She looks like me and steals my clothes and Pokémon, so close enough. Not that I’m bitter about it or anything.

The girl blinks and then nods slowly. I have to admit that it’s not a very convincing story. We could still be in street clothes and actually be members of Team Rocket. She’s doing well not to be convinced by us. Still, I’m not really sure what I can say that will convince her that we are truly here only to stop Team Rocket, not to help them.

“Well, j-just… remain calm, okay? We’re not going to hurt you. We’re going to find the Rocket in charge of this whole shebang and put a stop to this…” I say hesitantly, and I back away from the counter with my hands out in front of me. “In fact I might… like, run away. Get out of here while you still can. Just in case.”

The three girls behind the desk run around it and out of the entrance hall. It’s silent, and I can hear every click of a high heel above us and every _thump_ as someone sits down in their chairs. To think that somewhere in the normalcy above us, an anomaly is lurking with an evil intent. And hopefully it’s all for nothing.

“So, should we…” I trail off, pointing to the stairs across the hall.

“I think you’ve got the right idea. Get these people out of here. It’ll be easier to find out where Proton is that way, and we’ll be able to shut off the broadcast signals, too.” Silver begins stomping his way towards the stairs, and I follow quietly behind him. My Rocket heels click with every step, and I wonder why that makes me so uncomfortable.

We stop at the bottom of the stairs, and Silver gestures for me to go first. But when I take a step up, Silver clears his throat to stop me, and I glance back. His face is red, and he points towards my bottom.

“Shit, don’t look!” I snap, and I tug the short skirt a little lower, which works only to expose more of my midriff. I jump down from the first stair and push Silver in front of me. “You go first, you go.”

He does, and before I’ve even made it to the top step, I hear him shouting, “All right, everybody, get out of here! Now!”

I half-expect to be trampled by people fleeing the premises, but I’m not. Instead, I make it to the second floor and find the two of us surrounded by Pokémon and people. And considering that the two of us, as Rockets, only have a Golbat and a Gastly with us right now, we’re kind of outnumbered here.

“Well, isn’t this wonderful?” I mutter. “I guess we shouldn’t have assumed that they would leave quietly, huh?”

But the click of a tongue, rather obnoxiously loud, pauses the battle before it even begins. “My, we’ve got quite the commotion going on already, don’t we? It’s too bad I haven’t heard anything from Ariana, or I would have prepared myself. I suppose you just got eager, didn’t you?”

The voice breaks through the crowd, and a man dressed just as nicely as the other employees here steps forward. If I didn’t know any better, which I do now, I would think that he worked here, too. But I know his face and his sneer, and I can see through the façade just as easily as I believe that he sees through ours.

Silver tugs his hat further down over his eyes and nods. “We couldn’t wait any longer.”

Proton laughs. The sound pierces through the air and practically stings. I keep my gaze lowered with the naïve thought that if I can’t see him, he can’t see me. But then I see his shiny black loafers stop inches from my own feet, and I’m forced to look up. His face is so close to mine that I feel his breath on my skin.

He reaches up, and I wince, expecting the worst. But all he does is pull my hat off my head, at least at first. He tosses it aside and then touches my cheek with the back of his fingers, caressing me and setting my skin on fire with the gentle touch. I pull away from his touch and squeeze my eyes shut, but then I hear a loud _whack_ right in front of me.

“Don’t touch her, you sick fuck,” Silver snaps. I open my eyes and find his arm outstretched. He smacked Proton’s hand away from me.

There are murmurs suddenly in the crowd, and I glance around at the others standing around us. I think they understand what’s happening here. I meet one of the employee’s eyes in the crowd and subtly nod my head towards Proton. There is no hint of comprehension from the woman, yet I somehow know that she got the message.

“It is such an honor to have Giovanni’s son in our presence. Isn’t it, folks?” Proton announces as he holds his smacked hand out towards Silver now. “The heir to Team Rocket’s reins of control standing right before our eyes. It’s almost… magical.” Proton sighs dreamily, then knocks Silver’s hat off, too. “Get a good look at their faces, everyone.”

“Trix, use hypnosis,” Silver says, but before his Gastly can even move, a Meowth jumps from the crowd and bites at the little cloud of gas.

Suddenly it’s an all-out brawl. I hardly know what’s going on; Pokémon are throwing attacks all over the place, and Golbat flies in front of me to protect me from any wild fire. I take a step back and nearly tumble down the stairs, but a hand closes around my wrist and pulls me forward. In all of the confusion and shouting, I don’t really know what’s happening. The only thing I can assume is that Silver is the one who caught me.

Except when my eyes travel from the hand around my wrist to the arm to the shoulder and to the head, I find out that it’s not Silver. Proton pulls me towards him and presses my body against his. I squirm, but he presses his face against my neck and inhales slowly and deeply. Then I feel his other hand sneak around my waist and touch my bare stomach.

“What a brave little girl you are,” he whispers. Then he pulls me backwards away from the brawl, but I stick my foot out and hook myself around Silver’s ankle not too far from me. He stumbles and drops to his knees.

My friend looks up after nearly being knocked out by my attempt to get his attention, and he latches a hand around my ankle. “Let go of her!” he shouts. Somehow I’m in the middle of a tug-of-war, but it ends quickly and suddenly.

I’m not certain exactly what happens next. Everything stops, frozen in time. Proton has one arm looped under my left shoulder, and his other arm is still around my waist with his hand dangerously close to my crotch. Silver is on his hands and knees with one hand around my ankle and his mouth wide open.

And it’s not just us who are stuck like this. The others have been frozen, too. The battle stops mid-action. The Meowth who attacked Trix is mid-attack again, and Trix is not free-flowing like she usually is. Golbat remains in the air, yet for some reason, there is no need to flap its wings to stay there.

I can’t say exactly what’s going on. We’re all stuck here, plastered like statues, yet the fact that I’m thinking indicates that time is still passing. It’s something slightly different, some power that I have never seen before. But I can’t move my head or eyes to look around and see what might have caused this.

It’s only when a Celebi and its partner step in front of me that I know exactly what happened. Other Lyra puts her hands on her hips and clicks her tongue. She looks directly at me and then turns around to survey the crowd. Eventually she spins full circle and faces me again. She steps forward and caresses Proton’s face not so differently than he caressed mine.

“How disgusting,” she mutters. She drops her arm back to her side as though his skin suddenly caught fire, and she rolls her eyes with the most contempt I’ve ever seen from her—or from me, frankly speaking. “How would you like it if I touched you inappropriately? Oh, wait… you’d probably enjoy that…”

She walks around again, out of my sight and back into it a moment later. She stops in front of Silver and crouches down, balancing on the balls of her feet. She touches her fingers to Silver’s chin and shakes her head. “You wouldn’t do that for me, yet I’m the same person as her. That’s disappointing.”

Celebi continues to only float around as Other Lyra continues her survey. I want to get its attention somehow, to put us out of this state, but I know that the poor beast probably only listens to Other Lyra.

How could we be the exact same person, raised the exact same way up until our diverging paths, and turn out so completely different?

Other Lyra finally comes to a stop directly in front of me. She leans in towards me, and I wonder if she knows I can still see and hear her. Maybe, since she addresses me, “Well, sorry, Lyra. It’s time for us to change places. I’m sorry that it had to be this way, but I’m a bit more reliable than you. It’s only fair that I get what I want, isn’t it? Don’t we all deserve to be happy? It’s just… well, I’d be happier here.”

Wait… wait, no.

I can’t fight her. I can’t stop her from doing whatever it is she’s about to do.

“Celebi, you know what to do. Get her out of here, but don’t forget to unfreeze everyone else on your way out, too,” Other Lyra continues.

Celebi’s eyes begin to glow, and she sneaks forward and touches my face. I cry out in my mind where only I can hear myself, and it of course does no good. A moment later, there is a flash of light, and I feel my body moving. I can close my eyes, I can move my arms and legs. But when I open my eyes again, I’m no longer in the radio tower.

I’m not really sure where I am at first, but then it makes sense. There is a large shrine in front of me that I recognize, but I can’t imagine it’s the same one as the one where I come from.

Did… did Other Lyra just send me off to another dimension?

I look up at Celebi, who nudges its head against my forehead. I push myself to my feet and look at the towering canopy of trees above us. The Ilex forest of another time, another place? But where and when?

“Celebi,” I whisper, looking at the little creature. “Where did you just take me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the long delay. What has it been, a month? A month and a half? I’m so sorry. It’s the end of the schoolyear, and I also started my summer semester of grad school. So, I’ve been a bit busy on the work and academic front. But then I also took care of my sister’s two crazy puppies for a while when she was away, and I literally could never take my eyes off of them because they are young and insane, yet still very cute. So any time I could get to my computer, it had to be for homework and lesson plans. I basically just had zero free time for a while, so even though I was almost done this chapter, I really had no time to finish it. But here it is now, so please enjoy.
> 
> It should be another crazy week because it’s my last week of work-school and my birthday is Wednesday, so I might not have a lot of time this week either. But I promise you won’t have to wait another month for the next update!


	14. Another Side

The forest is quiet, with only the light gusts of winds rustling the leaves breaking the silence. Celebi doesn’t respond to my question, obviously because it can’t speak back, and the uncertainty gets to me. My breath becomes frantic, and my heart nearly beats out of my chest. I crouch down, holding my head and squeezing my eyes shut.

Other Lyra just sent me to the Ilex forest, that’s all. I’m not even that far from Goldenrod. I can get back to the radio tower in just a bit if I hurry, and then I can smack her upside the head when I find her.

And if I’m wrong?

I groan and move my hands around my bare stomach to hug myself. But holding myself like that reminds me of Proton, and I jump to my feet and tug the shirt down, only for it to bounce right back up to where it was two seconds ago.

Ugh… I don’t like thinking about his hands around me…

My legs begin to shake, and I fall to my knees. In the seconds that follow, my head rushes. I know what’s coming, so I take a deep breath. But, somehow, it doesn’t come. I sit there on my knees waiting for the explosion, but I don’t feel anything more than the vertigo that has already faded into nothing more than a distant memory.

I lift my face from my hands and glance around. Celebi watches me curiously as it floats upside down in midair, but it rolls over and comes closer to me when I push myself to a standing position.

There’s no use freaking out here. My bag is still slung over my shoulder, which means that I still have Art and the dragon, even if I don’t have Golbat with me right now. And since I’m still wearing the Rocket uniform, that also means that Other Lyra is still wearing my clothes. So regardless if I was the only one conscious for that event, it won’t matter. Silver will know right away that it’s not me with him.

Besides, if what Other Lyra said was true, this isn’t a permanent situation. Eventually I’ll be forced to return back to my dimension, just like she’ll be forced to return back to hers.

So… _why?_ What was the point of sending me away if it was all temporary?

“You know why,” I say to Celebi, “don’t you, My-Mylea?”

Celebi circles me once and then flies forward on the path. I have this strange feeling that wherever I am, wherever Celebi brought me, it was for a very specific reason. And I’m not entirely sure that Other Lyra knows where it took me… all she wanted was to get me out of the way, right?

Somehow, I don’t want to have to leave this serene place, where everything is calm and peaceful and not caught up in the tide. But I know that beyond the trees and brush, there’s a world out there that is just as messed up as the rest, regardless of where we may be. If that’s true, and I know it must be, then I need to figure out how to fix it.

I release Art and Dragonair—Draga… no, Dragana?—and then turn my attention to Celebi. “If you brought me here for a reason, then come with me. You can help me. I know you can,” I say to it, and it circles me once more. Then it pauses in front of my face and leans in close, and it touches my nose with one of its tiny hands.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say and begin walking towards the north exit.

It is a little unsettling how similar things are here to my own dimension. The people on the route are familiar to me, though by appearance only, and seeing the daycare that Ethan’s grandparents own… well, I want to stop in and ask them what’s going on, but seeing as I’m wearing Rocket garb, it’s best if I don’t. They won’t know who I am, anyway.

So I book it north towards the radio tower, only to find that Goldenrod is completely blocked off by Rockets. I wouldn’t normally be thankful to be wearing the Team Rocket uniform, but this is pretty good luck.

Maybe they won’t question the Pokémon standing behind me.

“Excuse me, I need to get to the radio tower. Proton has requested my presence,” I snap at the two Rockets standing guard at the city limits. I’m not sure why no one has tried to overtake them; the two look to be just grunts, and they don’t even have their Pokémon standing guard with them. Even if this does go funky, I’m sure Art could handle them on her own.

“Oh.” One of the men standing guard stands up straighter and glances me over. His gaze shifts conspicuously towards the Pokémon behind me, but I stand my ground with my heels planted. Silver said a grunt like me would never have such strong Pokémon, but I’ve decided: I’m not just a stupid grunt anymore.

I think Proton might agree.

“Hurry up and get out of my way!” I bark. The men immediately part way for me.

The whole city is crawling with Rockets. If this truly is another dimension, then that means that the place is a little bit ahead of mine. I’m not sure by how much time.

But it actually doesn’t take me long to find out. I enter the radio tower without much of a problem, aside from some looks from the other grunts in the city. It doesn’t seem that the authorities have been contacted yet. And the determination in my eyes or the force of my steps must frighten all of the Rockets from causing me trouble because the second they size me up, they look away with wide eyes and pursed lips.

In the tower, the glowing sign behind the counter reads the lottery numbers for the day. And below that: the date.

It’s _months_ later. Not just days or weeks, but _months_.

That’s how much time we have—no, not anymore. Silver and I _accelerated_ it… Because what’s about to go down in Goldenrod here… it’s already happening in my Goldenrod because we _made_ it happen.

Great Arceus, what have I done?

I take a deep breath and shake the fear out of me. The ladies behind the counter are just as scared as they were in my dimension, and I wish I could help calm their fears. But I need a solution, and I need one quickly. How can I stop this from happening?

What did Celebi bring me here for?

There is a Rocket grunt standing guard at the foot of the stairs leading to the offices and recording studios that await above me. Somewhere up there, Proton waits again—and the lady that the grunts in my dimension mentioned, Ariana, who is probably here for this whole thing. Who knows how many other executives are here, too?

“Whoa, where’d you get a Pokémon like that?” the grunt says as I approach. He nods towards Celebi, and Art snorts as though she’s offended he didn’t ask about her.

I swallow and get myself back into character. “None of your business. You don’t get to question _me_. I’m the one who is allowed to question you.” I reach up and grab a fold of the grunt’s shirt. “Proton and Ariana requested my assistance here. Why wasn’t I briefed on the situation before arriving here? Bunch of amateurs…”

My exasperation seems to frighten the grunt because he holds up his hands defensively and splutters, “I don’t know, I don’t know. I don’t have any control over contact, ma’am. It’s just, the opportunity presented itself, and—”

“What do you mean, ‘the opportunity presented itself’?” I demand, and I tighten my grip on the grunt’s shirt.

“J-just that the evolution operations at the Lake of Rage proved successful and the director here was gotten out of the way. O-our leader is sure to be impressed when he hears about this. The call is already going out, so it’s just a matter of time. Proton and Ariana probably want you here for when he arrives!” the grunt continues to babble.

Other Lyra mentioned that Team Rocket in her dimension forced evolution upon Pokémon through the radio signals, but she didn’t say anything about the return of Giovanni. Giovanni wasn’t so much of a threat. I mean, a little kid defeated him in Kanto. But if he had been biding his time, training for these three years since his defeat…

I needed to find him. I needed to take him on.

But I’m not an idiot. I know Art and the dragon aren’t anywhere near ready to take on the corrupt boss of an illegal crime organization. It’s just… I don’t exactly have very much time to waste. So what the hell can I do about it?

“Does anyone know where he is? Any hints?” I ask. As if someone as low on the totem pole as this guy would know anything about it.

“No. T-there are only rumors that he’s still in Kanto or somewhere close to the border,” the grunt explains. He winces as I let go of his shirt and grumble a little. “But-But Petrel and Proton have searched every corner of Kanto and haven’t found him anywhere. But he’s sure to return when he hears our message.”

I’m not sure what makes them think that Giovanni has access to a radio, or that he’d be listening to any Goldenrod stations, but it doesn’t matter. The fact is that it works. In the other dimensions, Silver’s dad comes back and manages to run the show.

And it doesn’t matter if Red comes back or if I train to be strong enough. Because the second Giovanni returns, Team Rocket must start sending out the signal to force evolution. And when that happens, they get strong enough to get the legendaries before anyone can stop them, and when people try to fight back…

I can picture it all. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how this all went down.

“Fine, well, I’ll just—”

“Hey!”

It’s my turn to wince because I know that voice. I try to subtly brush my hair behind my ears with my hand to block my face, but it’s not like I can stand here covering my face the whole time without being obvious. Maybe if I just back away really slowly…

But Silver—Other Silver maybe—is in the middle of chastising the Rocket grunt when he notices me turn. He grabs my shoulder before I can slip away and spins me around. I bang into the wall behind me and squeeze my eyes shut as I lean back against it.

“Lyra?” he wonders. I peak one eye open and meet Silver’s darkened gaze. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right? What a joke. You think you’re strong or something because you’re playing dress up and look like one of them?”

His voice is cruel, much more so than the tone the Silver from my dimension uses around me. They are certainly just as crass as one another, but I feel a lot more resentment from him than my Silver.

_My_ Silver? Damn it.

“Silver, listen to me—”

“Wait a minute, what do you mean ‘dress up’?” the grunt asks as he pieces together what Silver says.

Silver, though, ignores the poor grunt entirely and points a finger in my face. “You’re an idiot. Even as a joke, you shouldn’t wear that garbage.”

He starts for the hem of my shirt, and I smack his hand away from me. The surprise that lights Silver’s face is almost comical, but I don’t really have time to find it funny. “What do you think you’re doing?” I snap. The Lyra in this dimension must be more soft-spoken than me if this surprises him. “It’s not like I have anything on underneath this! Besides, you know…”

His face goes almost as red as his hair, and he backs away from me. “I-idiot.”

“Are you telling me you’re not a member of Team Rocket?” the grunt demands. It’s the first sign of authority that I’ve seen from him since stepping in here, which again kind of makes me wonder why no one has stepped up to the plate to challenge him.

“As if she could be…” Silver mutters under his breath. He’s still red in the face, which makes him seem a little less tough.

But I’m not messing around. I shoot Silver a dark look. “I can answer for myself, thanks.” He looks even more uncomfortable.

“Damn it. If Archer hears about everything I told you…” the grunt mumbles. He fumbles in his pockets for his Poké balls and then comes out with two of them. “Battle me! I’ll make you pay for making a fool out of me!”

I look at Silver and frown. “Hey, be a pal and help a girl out?”

“I’m not helping you…”

“Silver! Is that you?”

It’s a new, but still disturbingly familiar, voice. The grunt seems exasperated at the crowd now forming here in the radio tower, but he looks hopeful as someone in a Rocket uniform heads our way. But as the girl gets closer, his expression darkens. Silver’s eyes go wide, too, and I wonder if it’s too late to duck out now.

Another version of me, clad in the exact same Rocket garb that I’m wearing and with a Meganium just like Art behind her, stops yards away from us when her eyes fall on me. “Um…” She takes a couple of hesitant steps towards me and glances me up and down. “A copycat? I heard of a girl in Kanto who’s really good at that. Are you her?”

I should just say yes and get the heck out of here, but I don’t. I shake my head. Mylea makes a noise that sounds kind of like a laugh and flies over my head.

“Is that…” Lyra #3, if you include me, begins.

“I crossed dimensions with Celebi and arrived here, and if we don’t stop Silver’s dad, who happens to be Giovanni, then your dimension—and all the other dimensions so long as no solution is found—is going to fall at the hands of Team Rocket and the legendaries who will be under their control,” I tell her.

Everyone is staring at me like I’ve got three heads. After a minute, Silver bursts out laughing and looks at Lyra #3. “I’m so fucking confused,” he chortles.

“So, like, are you something that was created by this Celebi?” Lyra #3 asks. She reaches up and pokes my cheek, seemingly surprised when her hand doesn’t go through me. “Fascinating. But kind of creepy. I’m not sure I like this.”

“I wish I knew what was going on…” the grunt mutters.

“Okay, did you hear a word I just said?” I ask. Silver stops laughing, but Lyra #3 continues to look at me like I’m some crazy science experiment. “If we don’t find Giovanni, your dimension is going to fall. People will _die_. Including Silver over here!”

This gets Silver’s attention, if my announcement that Giovanni was his dad didn’t during my previous speech. “What?”

“This is all very complicated, and I would love to give you the full break down of everything that is going on. But we don’t have the luxury of time on our side right now.” I grab Silver and Lyra #3’s arms and pull them into the center of the lobby. The grunt stays by the stairs completely dazed. “I’m you from another dimension, not a copy. And I was sent here by _another_ version of us. There isn’t much time left for your dimension.”

Lyra #3 breaks away from my grip and takes several steps back with her brow furrowed. “You’re lying.”

“This is really messed up,” Silver says.

“I wish things were easier to explain than this. I wish that I could explain everything—heck, I wish I _understood_ everything, but I don’t. All I know is that Celebi brought me to this dimension because it’s on the brink and it thinks there is a solution,” I explain, as if this is an explanation at all. “So, I need you to just trust me for a minute, we have to put our heads together, and think of how we can stop them.”

Lyra #3 and Silver exchange a skeptical glance, but then Lyra #3 sighs and nods. “Fine. It sounds like you’re on our side anyway, so regardless of how literally ridiculous this sounds, I’ll follow your story for right now.”

I want to tell her that at least I’m not like Other Lyra, but she would have no idea what I’m talking about and probably be insulted that another version of us is a huge bitch.

“I’m not going to be a part of this. I have better things to do,” Silver says, but before he can stand up, both Lyra #3 and I grab one of his hands. His face contorts in either anger or disgust—until he turns his gaze on me and probably remembers how he almost stripped me, because his face goes red once again.

“Like what?”

“L-like… find Lance…”

“Lance!” I let go of Silver and snap my fingers. “I don’t have my PokéGear here… I can’t call him. Do you have his number, Lyra?”

Lyra #3 shakes her head. Damn variances in the timeline… and there’s no way we have time to try to track him down, even if he is already here somewhere.

There has to be something we can do. In the other dimensions, if Silver was off looking for Lance, that meant he wasn’t fighting Team Rocket—strange that he put Lance above Team Rocket in terms of importance. I wonder what Lance did to him that pissed him off so much because it had to be something good.

But whatever. If Silver wasn’t fighting the Rockets, the authorities weren’t here, and Lance wasn’t around, that pretty much meant that I (whichever one of us Lyras the “I” was) was the only one trying to stop Team Rocket here. And apparently it wasn’t something I could do alone since I failed in the other dimensions.

Still, the bigger problem seemed to be Giovanni. If he returned, that was sure victory for Team Rocket.

It wasn’t like there was time to figure out where he was, though, and none of the Rockets knew where he was. If they did, they wouldn’t be sending out a radio message to him to come back. Was it worth waiting here for Giovanni to return, then being swarmed by all of the Rockets at once, who would surely defeat us?

Or was it better to go upstairs now, stop the message that Giovanni might have already received, and then be taken down once again?

The best solution, but perhaps the most impossible, was to stop the Rockets here _and_ stop Giovanni wherever he was. Keeping the two parts of the whole separated was the safest route, but how in Arceus’s name would we ever find Giovanni?

“You know him better than any of us, Silver. Where would your dad train?” I ask.

Silver crosses his arms like a little kid being defiant. “I don’t know. I don’t know him at all.”

“Giovanni is your dad?” Lyra #3 asks.

“Yeah, how did you find that out?” Silver demands, but I wave him off.

“Doesn’t matter. But what I need you to do is to think really, really hard about everything that you know about your father. I know it’s painful…” I swallow and lean forward, grabbing Silver’s hand once again. “I know that he’s hurt you, and that you’ve had to take care of yourself. But I don’t want to see you get hurt more, okay? So, just work past the pain and the anger, and _think_. Giovanni must have had a secret spot. And maybe, since you were supposed to be the heir to all of this, he told you about it or brought you there once.”

I expect that the Silver in my dimension would succumb to my words. His gaze would soften, his heart would open a little, and he’d admit that every moment thinking back on his childhood would give him heartache. But this Silver hardens, tugs his hand away from me, and stares at the floor. He doesn’t open.

“Silver…” Lyra #3 says softly.

But he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at the floor and crosses his arms once again, and that’s that. I sigh, exchange a look with Lyra #3, and shake my head.

This is hopeless. This whole thing is hopeless, and I’m going to be on the cusp of something great only to fail and lead this dimension into the ground, too. And then when my time is up, when I have to go back to my dimension, I won’t be any closer to a solution.

And even if I was—even if I found Giovanni in time back home—I would have to live with the guilt of failing this dimension when I was _this_ close.

Then, suddenly, Silver lifts his head and says, “It’s a cave. I can’t remember where. But there were waterfalls in the cave, and behind one of the waterfalls, there was a smaller cavern. He made a little base there.”

A cave with waterfalls… there are lots of those in Johto, and probably even more in Kanto.

“Where did you live?” I ask.

Silver strains to remember, judging by the contortion of his face as he thinks. “A couple of places. There was the gym in Viridian, so we had a house there. But the Rocket hideout was in Celadon, so we had a penthouse there, too. And then we had a few vacation houses and safe houses…”

“But now there’s the hideout in Mahogany, which might have been there prior to the fall of Team Rocket,” Lyra #3 offers, and I nod.

I picture the map of Johto and Kanto in my head and try to pinpoint all of these major places in my head. They all kind of fall around the very center of Johto and Kanto—the line where the two regions meet. And I know for a fact there are lots of strong Pokémon along the border. My mom used to warn me all the time not to go too close to the water near our house for that very reason.

“The Tohjo Falls,” I say. “What about the Tohjo Falls?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I didn’t expect such a delay on this chapter, too… I got really sick for a while and was bedridden for a bit, and then when I got better this week, my final project for one of my grad classes was due and took over my life.
> 
> But here is the update! I woke up early to finish it because I really, really wanted to get it out to you guys. Hopefully the next update is sooooon!


	15. Time Crunch

I can tell this Silver doesn’t like me very much, which probably makes him not so different from the Silver back in my dimension.

“Tell me again why I have to go with you? I was kind of in the middle of something,” he complains.

We are back in my hometown, flown here by Silver’s Golbat—making me wonder if and when my Silver will catch one, or maybe he got it from me in the first place—and he has been unpleasant since the minute we touched down. His grumbles and tongue-clicking is starting to drive me nuts, but I keep my cool and don’t say anything to piss him off.

“And I’m sure it was very important,” I say in a soft voice. One of my neighbors looks up from trimming his hedges and waves at us, and I wave back even though he’s technically a stranger to me. “But, unfortunately, if you don’t want to end up dead, you’re going to need to shut up and keep walking, okay, buddy?”

All right, so I’m not exactly _keeping my cool_ , but it’s fine. I can tell that the Lyra here is a lot nicer than I am because every time I say something just a little catty, this Silver blinks as if he doesn’t know what just happened. Admittedly, I kind of like that, which only makes me all the more obnoxious even though I’m aware that I need to tone it down a notch.

In any case, we already went through it—albeit with haste due to our little time crunch—back at the tower. Lyra #3 was taking care of things there, which ultimately won’t amount to much since the Lyra in every other dimension has already failed. But the whole point of leaving her behind was to buy us some time here.

I’ll be the first to admit that I am not nearly strong enough to take on Silver’s dad, regardless of the training Other Lyra put Art and Dragana through (or, rather, what they put themselves through). Because a man who has trained for _years_ automatically has more skill than I do in my week of being a trainer.

And this makes me question further why Other Lyra even thought I could do this. How am I supposed to solve anything when it’s only been several days, versus the _months_ she and the others got in comparison?

But I’m not alone, and this serves as a small reassurance. This Silver is bitter and cold, and he doesn’t speak to me unless he has a complaint like the one he’s been throwing my way since we left. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t want to know more about why there are multiple dimensions. It makes me kind of glad because I don’t have the answers.

Yet at the same time, there is a pit in my stomach when I think about him because it makes me think of the Silver back home. They’re the same, yet still so different, and I kind of… I kind of… well, I kind of miss him.

It’s only been an hour, maybe more or maybe less, since I arrived here in this dimension, but a very significant part of me wants to know that Silver—my Silver—is okay. Because what if I truly did speed up everything, including his death?

I try not to think about it. Other Lyra is there with him, and regardless of how I feel about her right now, I know she won’t let Proton hurt Silver. Her feelings for him are genuine, even if he isn’t the same Silver with whom she fell in love. I mean, if she can kiss him so easily… not that this _really_ says anything about her…

There’s not time to worry about it now. All I have to do is remain sure that Other Lyra will keep Silver safe.

If not, I have every confidence that Silver’s poor attitude will simply annoy off anybody who would want to hurt him.

The Silver in this dimension and I reach the water’s edge just past my house. I glance back at it over my shoulder and frown, but I take a deep breath and look back out to the water. There is a light breeze causing some small waves, which lap against the gritty sand under our feet. I can’t see far beneath the water as it stretches out before us, but I know there are Pokémon stronger than mine waiting beneath those waves.

“Do you, um…” I begin. Silver glares at me, probably because he recognizes the tone I use. “You don’t happen to have the ability to, uh, surf… do you?”

He sighs and pushes me out of the way with his elbow. “I have to do everything…”

“Excuse me, you do not,” I snap. “And don’t push me.”

He acts as if he has never been spoken back to like that before—specifically by Lyra, since I imagine he is used to it from his father. I wonder if it hurts his feelings that I spoke to him so harshly, but I think it’s fair to say that he shouldn’t act so violently. I need to put my foot down around the Silver in my dimension, too.

Silver—this Silver—simply nods and reaches under his shirt. He clicks a Poké ball off of his belt and points it at the water. When he pushes the button, a giant blue Pokémon with sharp teeth poking from its gums appears. It towers over the both of us, and the Celebi who continues to float by my side peers at it with its head crooked.

“Wait a minute,” I say. I reach a hand out towards the giant beast, and it seems to ponder whether to snap its jaws over my wrist. “Feraligatr? But… then that means…”

It means that this doesn’t add up. Silver stole Totodile in this dimension? He doesn’t have Ty? Well, then, what about Art?

“Who does Lyra have as a starter?” I ask.

Silver’s brow furrows as if he wants to start off with some snide comment, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Some ratty little thing. Too stupid to even open its eyes. Cyndaquil. It’s a Typhlosion now, of course, but it was annoying as hell when it was in its first stage.”

Huh. But Other Lyra had the same Pokémon as me… so it seemed, anyway. How could these factors, ones that occurred prior to the shift in timelines, change? That had to mean there was some other variable here that had been changed that had not been affected in the other dimensions. Its importance… well, I’m not sure. All I can speculate is that _something_ differed.

“Are we going or what? Aren’t we on a time crunch?” Silver demands, bringing me back to _this_ reality. I nod, and he points to the water. Feraligatr jumps in and glances back at us expectantly.

Silver lowers himself onto Feraligatr’s back first. He shivers but tries to shake it off so I don’t notice, but I can’t help but smile. I hold onto his shoulder to steadily climb onto the giant creature behind him, and he grunts when I shift all of my weight onto him and then drop down behind him. The water sends a shiver up my spine, too, and I press myself against Silver’s back just to keep warm.

“Yo, some space, some space.”

“Want me to fall off?” I ask. I can hear Silver murmur that he does under his breath, but I choose to ignore that.

Once Feraligatr starts swimming and bobs up and down with a flowing motion against the current of the river, I hold onto Silver even more tightly. At one point, both of us dip entirely under unexpectedly, and we come up spluttering before dipping under again.

Meanwhile, Mylea the Celebi flaps its little wings above us and watches us curiously. Stupid bug.

“We—must—” I try to shout in between dunks— “be—getting—close!”

I don’t know how much more I can take. I’ve swallowed so much water that I feel nauseous and can no longer see thanks to the water dripping down my face, but we must be almost there.

I’ve barely thought this before Silver and I are launched into the air. I land against a stalagmite, which I use to hold myself up. Silver and I are both spitting out water in the minutes that follow, until we have nothing left but the water gurgling in our stomachs. We glance up at each other, water still dripping from our drenched hair and soaked clothes. I smile, but Silver glares at me and looks away.

“All this to find the stupid old man…”

“Have you never, uh, surfed before?”

Silver’s laugh is derisive at best, and he crosses his arms. “Duh, of course I have. What an idiot…”

Ah, some people just can’t be wrong. I choose not to say anything, though, but admire this Silver and his immaturity for a brief moment before examining the rest of the cavern.

A massive waterfall roars nearby, glistening slightly from the light pouring in from the mouth of the cave. I can make out a ledge behind it with stalactites and stalagmites hanging and protruding respectively from all around it. It looks like a dangerous climb but not an impossible one, but there are few options besides it.

Feraligatr bobs in the water at the very edge of the rocky shore onto which it threw Silver and me. I start to climb back onto it when Silver grabs my shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

I point to the edge behind the waterfall. “What do you want to bet there’s an alcove behind the waterfall? I need to get up there.”

Silver lets go of me and lowers himself onto Feraligatr before me. “ _We_ need to get up there. I didn’t come all of this way just to be ignored at the end.”

I nod and settle myself on Feraligatr’s back. The water is even choppier here than outside thanks to the waterfall breaking into what could’ve been a calm cavern pond. Luckily the distance to the ledge is short, but it requires getting pretty damn close to the thousands of gallons powering over the hundred-foot ledge.

“I’ll go first! Push me up!” I shout over the roar of the waterfall. I start to move, but Silver clambers up to his feet on Feraligatr before me. “Hey, did you hear me?”

“No offense,” he calls back, “but I don’t feel like watching a show today.”

I’m admittedly flabbergasted by his words until I realize: I’m still wearing the Team Rocket uniform, meaning I still have on this too-short skirt, which has actually ridden up slightly to reveal more of my thighs than I would have liked to share with Silver at the moment. I grab the hem and tug it down even though Silver won’t have noticed anyway, given that he’s already halfway up the wall.

I start up after him, and Feraligatr gives me a boost with its head. These boots can’t get a grip on the wet rocks along the edge, though, and I keep slipping back down onto Feraligatr’s nose.

“Hand,” Silver offers from the ledge. If I was wearing my sneakers, I would’ve made it up just fine, too…

But this is no time for pride. I launch myself upward, and just as my foot slips once again, I manage to catch hold of Silver’s hand. He grunts and holds me with both of his, and I dig my heels into the wall to lock myself against it. Feraligatr stretches its neck with all of its might, and even Celebi flies down below me and tries to push my foot with its little hands. A moment later, I get up with Silver’s help, and he wipes his dripping forehead as if it’s sweating—but I’m dripping, too, thanks to the splash from the waterfall.

“Pain in my—”

“I know, I know. Always have been, huh?” I ask with a smile, and Silver looks away from me. “No matter what dimension.”

“How many of you do you think there are?” he wonders, getting to his feet and then looking along the ledge. It is pitch black behind the curtain the waterfall creates, and he reaches a hand up to feel the rocky wall behind us. “Because I think I’ve met three.”

“ _What?_ ” I demand in a hissing whisper. “What do you mean?”

“When I was younger, I saw one of you when I lived back in Kanto. It was actually… it was the day that my good-for-nothing father left. It took me a while to connect the dots, but I realized a few weeks ago that Lyra was the one who I saw—but she looked the same as now, and that was years and years ago… So, well…” Silver pauses and stops patting the wall momentarily. “It makes sense that it was a Lyra from another dimension. Like you.”

I make a mental note to ask my Silver when I get back if he had met me, a Lyra, before. Because if he didn’t, could that be the difference I suspected here? The catalyst that triggered change, however subtle?

But I don’t have time to elaborate with this Silver here because he nudges my arm with his elbow. “There’s an alcove,” he whispers, just loud enough above the waterfall for me to hear. I pat his back, encouraging him to enter, when something strange happens.

I can no longer move. It’s like something has frozen me in time, which reminds me of not too long ago when Other Lyra used Mylea the Celebi to freeze everyone. But I can see Silver’s outline still moving, and I try to reach for him without success.

“Sil’er,” I call through my mouth without being able to move my lips or tongue. “Eh ‘e ‘ere?”

Silver turns and looks at me. His eyes go wide; it takes me a second to realize why, but then I can see it because of my nose. I’m fading like a ghost. Celebi flies over to me and rests on top of my head, and I hold my breath for a moment.

The timeline is correcting itself. I’m going back.

“Ee-o-an-ee!” I attempt to exclaim. “Eh ‘e ‘ere?”

Silver hurries into the cavern, disappearing from my line of vision. I’m almost gone—I can barely see my nose in front of me anymore. This is just my luck… the moment I am about to find out if this could fix everything… and I disappear.

But seconds before everything around me fades, too, I hear it: Silver’s voice, barely audible, shouting, “Father!”

I don’t know if this is a confirmation or if it’s Silver just trying to find his dad somewhere in the darkness, but I never get the answer—not in this dimension, anyway. I’ve gone from this place seconds after Silver’s shouted the last syllable, back in all of my solid glory moments later in a spot all too familiar to me now.

The Ilex forest, despite its heavy tree cover, is much brighter than Tohjo Falls, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. I’m still dripping with water, still wearing this stupid Rocket uniform, and still weighed down with Celebi on my head. It blows a raspberry, flies off of me, and shakes its little body to dry itself off.

“Why?” I snap at Mylea, and it turns on me with its big innocent eyes. “Why did I get forced out so soon? Why has Other Lyra had much longer than me here than what I got over there?” But I think I know the answer, and I sigh. “Sorry. I shouldn’t yell at you. It’s because the dimension was trying to correct itself, isn’t it? It’s a _good_ sign.”

“Bii,” Mylea responds.

“Because if I was kicked out that soon, it meant I was on the right track to making a change, right? And that Other Lyra hasn’t left yet, as far as I know, means that she hasn’t done anything to initiate major change?” I continue. I pat my hands against my thighs and look ahead towards the thickening wood. “I need to get back to Silver. I think getting him to talk to his dad is the answer. And now I know where he is.”

Mylea flies ahead of me but glances back to make sure I’m following. I run after her because there is no time to lose. Who knows what Proton is doing right now to all of those poor people—and who knows what kind of damage Other Lyra has done to my reputation.

Of course, _I’m_ the one wearing the Team Rocket uniform right now.

This Goldenrod is not swarmed by Rockets like the one in the other dimension was. On the contrary, it looks just as peaceful as always—that is, until I reach the radio station.

It seems as if the entirety of Johto’s police force surrounds the building. There are men and women in police uniforms conversing by their cars, while other more heavily garbed officers stand on either side of the doorway with Arcanines.

“What’s going on?” I ask a spectator. A crowd of citizens stand behind barriers put up by the police, and I can’t help but wonder if they are very brave or very stupid.

“Hostage situation. Team Rocket has got the director of the station and almost all of the employees trapped,” the man explains. “Right now the radio is completely down, but it seems like Team Rocket is working on setting up some weird signal. They keep threatening to start it if the police enter the building.”

Damn it. I really did accelerate everything _and_ manage to make everything worse. Count on me to screw everything up by rushing into things without thinking. The only reassurance is that I think I know what to do.

But I need Silver. If I went to go approach Giovanni by myself, what good would that do? I’d, first of all, get absolutely annihilated in battles and, second of all, not get very far in talking to him since I mean absolutely nothing to him.

“Wait a minute—help! Help!” the man shouts. He’s taken a look at me, and I sigh. “It’s a Rocket!”

I hold up my hands as about a dozen police officers surround me. Their Growlithe and Arcanine all have their teeth bared, at least until Mylea flies in front of me. Their ears sort of droop a little, and they close their mouths.

But the officers aren’t so quick to understand. I’m in handcuffs before I even get the chance to explain myself. The crowd watching this have all begun to murmur, and it’s almost as if their judgment is tangible. It leaks into my skin and hurts a little that all of these people think so poorly of me, and I wish I could stop it.

“Oh!” I exclaim as an idea comes to me. One of the officers shoots me a dark look at my outburst, but it gets the little Celebi’s attention. “Mylea, can you do that little trick you did for Other Lyra? That would solve everything!”

The words are no sooner out of my mouth than everything stops: the noise, the officers’ pokes and prods, the judgment. I slip out of the grip of a female officer and look around for a pair of keys to get these handcuffs off of me.

“Ah, Mylea, there!” I nod towards some keys on the belt of a male officer, and Celebi grabs them and pushes the correct key into the handcuffs’ keyhole after a couple of attempts. The handcuffs drop to the ground, and I kick them into the frozen crowd.

“Let’s go!”

I sidestep all of the officers around me and make my way into the radio tower. It is eerily quiet now as a result of Celebi’s strange time-halting powers. Not a single sound—not even the click of a clock’s second hand—breaks the silence. Time has stopped for everyone in this dimension, perhaps, except for me.

But I don’t think it lasts long, especially considering all of the power Mylea has used today. “Bii…” the little Celebi cries, and everything rushes back to a start.

There is panic outside, and I hurriedly send out Art and Dragana from their Poké balls. Art nudges me with her head, but Dragana looks behind us with the concern I _should_ have.

I sprint up the stairs two at a time to the second floor where the day’s mess began. I’m hit with a strange odor almost as soon as I step into the open-concept room. I clasp my hands over my mouth and squint—the odor isn’t invisible, either, but instead a thick purplish fog that keeps breezing around the room like a wave.

I’ve been in the room hardly a minute when I start to go lightheaded. It’s a poisonous gas… a smog…

“Art… sweet scent…” I say through my hands. Art, being weak to poison, doesn’t look too well, but she manages to send a faint gust of aromatic mist out of her petals. The smog is pushed back and away, replaced with the pleasant-smelling and entirely clear sweet scent.

When the smog clears away, I see bodies—no, hopefully not bodies but just unconscious people—spread across the floor. But I don’t see Silver or Other Lyra among them. For that matter, I don’t see Proton either.

That all three of them are gone doesn’t reassure me.

I want to help the people here, but I can only hope that they come to over time. Instead, the best I can do is cross the room towards the next set of stairs to the third floor. This room is clear from smog, but it is not clear of people.

“Silver!” I exclaim, and the redhead looks over his shoulder from the chair where he sits at me. Of course, everyone else with him looks, too: a woman with the same color hair as Silver’s, Proton, and Other Lyra.

Upon closer inspection, I see a pile of Poké balls grouped on the table closest to the redheaded woman. I can only suspect that those Pokémon and balls belong to Silver and Other Lyra—technically me, I guess, since she had all of my empty Poké balls—since a large Arbok sits curled up by Silver’s feet.

“Oh, goodie, you’re back,” Proton says with a severe lack of enthusiasm.

“What a _darling_!” the redheaded woman exclaims, almost too enthusiastic in comparison. “Little cosplayer, isn’t she? Your sister?”

She looks at Other Lyra. I can’t see her reaction from here, but I see the redheaded woman’s. Her lips pressed into a thin wide smile, and then she laughs and looks back to me. “We were just having a little chat trying to figure out where you went. According to Proton, one minute you were there, and the next you were gone! Caused a bit of a panic, really. We can’t have our enemies disappearing like that to do who-knows-what.”

Silver is still staring at me, and he mouths something that I can’t decode. I’ve never been too good at lip-reading.

I can’t use Mylea anymore. The duration of a time freeze probably wouldn’t last long enough at this point to do anything useful.

But I _can_ use Art.

“Art, stun spore,” I say.

The powder that comes off Art’s petals this time are a sickening yellow color, and it blows towards the group, including Silver and Other Lyra. It’s what I have to do, and it won’t give me much time, but it is enough that I think I can get out of here.

Proton and the redheaded lady collapse to the ground, and both Silver and Other Lyra slump in their chairs. Once the powder settles, I run forward, grab my bag from Other Lyra, and scoop all of the Poké balls from the table into it.

“Gotta go,” I mutter to Silver, and with all of my strength, I lift him from the chair and push him over onto Art’s back. “Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should just admit to myself at this point that these updates will be super sporadic instead of saying how I hope to get the next chapter out quickly. I’m so sorry, I take forever because of grad school… please forgive me! But this story will be completed as soon as I am able to do so, so please bear with me. I really do hope that I can update again soon.


	16. Slip of the Heart

My heel clips the edge of one of the steps heading downstairs, but I catch myself on the banister and prevent what could have been a lethal, or at least foolish, fall. Art carries a stunned Silver on her back and moves more cautiously down the stairs than me, but we skid to a stop near the main entrance around the same time. And then I remember that there is a whole crew of police officers outside trying to figure out a way inside. To find me.

“Well,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and looking at Art. “Here’s the plan: we’re literally just going to charge through. You lead, head right through the crowd. The surprise will take the officers aback; we’ll get through no problem. But then they’ll likely start following us, so we’ve got to lose them. Split up but make sure to meet me in the underground when you’ve lost them. Got all that?”

Art nudges me with her head, and then the dragon cries out behind me. My stomach sinks a little—I’ve actually forgotten all about the poor thing in the rush, and I frown.

“All right. This is the chance to prove yourself, Dragana,” I tell her, and she holds her head with more pride than I have ever mustered on my own. “You break through first and lead the distraction.”

Dragana slithers across the floor, and the automatic doors open for her. There are shouts as the people outside try to deal with her, and amidst the chaos, Art slips out unnoticed.

I am not as lucky. When I step outside those doors, all eyes immediately fall on me. Dragana has wrapped herself around the ankles of one of the officers, who does not appear to notice her with _my_ arrival on the scene. It is only when she sends out a burst of hot, rancid breath from her open mouth that people lose their concentration on me in order to clamp their hands over their noses.

I use the opportunity to sprint, holding my breath the whole while because it really does smell like rotten eggs. Who knew that such a beautiful creature could have such horrid breath?

I escape relatively quickly and easily into the alley that leads to one of two entrances to the underground. Dragana, and the thought of her somewhere buying us time, almost makes me hesitate. But I gather my courage once again and push the door open to the underground, and this time I don’t miss any steps.

“Art?” I hiss. The lights flicker like they do in horror films, but I am not particularly concerned. I can see a Magnemite leaning up against the ceiling that is draining the energy from this place. But when the power goes out completely, I curse that damn Magnemite out. Flickering lights is one thing, but no power at all…

“I can’t see anything. Art, are you here? Mylea, do you see her?”

Something scaly rubs up against my hand, and I shiver. But I can make out, vaguely, the form of Dragana. The dragon keeps her head close to me and leads me, I think, towards the closet full of costumes where I might be able to find something more suitable for my attempts than a Rocket uniform.

Art cries out as soon as I enter the room, and I pat her head. “Nice work, Art!” I exclaim, and then I pat Dragana, too. “And you, too. You guys rocked it.”

There is a surge of power, and the lights come back on brighter than ever. I curse that Magnemite once again, but I admit myself pleased that the electricity is back on, even if it had been out only for a minute or so.

I survey the area with my hands on my hips and sigh. Clothes are not the only things in the room, though: Art successfully brought Silver here, and he remains stunned against the wall with a dazed look upon his frozen face. I smile and squat in front of him. “I’m glad you’re here,” I tell him. “I actually kind of missed you. But, like, not in a weird way.”

Silver probably would have gagged or something if he could, but picturing it has enough of an effect on me to make me giggle. I lean him down so that he lays flat on the ground, and then I throw a shirt over his face.

“No peeking,” I tell him.

The clothes in here are all kind of weird and too conspicuous, but there is nothing more conspicuous than being dressed as a Rocket in a city full of people trying to catch them. I pull on a baggy lime green t-shirt with a picture of a Flaaffy on it and a pair of black biker shorts. They don’t have a pair of sneakers that fit me in here, so I settle with some gladiator sandals that clash horribly with the green t-shirt.

I have just finished lacing the sandals when Silver begins to fidget.

“You…” he murmurs, but he is still stunned enough that he can’t reach up and pull the shirt off his face.

“Sorry for all this. But I need you. We have a big day ahead of us. Lots to do,” I say. I finish with the sandals and scoot across the ground to be beside Silver. I lift the shirt off his face, and his eyes move to meet my gaze. It makes me a little sad that the look we exchange is enough to make my stomach churn in the same sort of way that I bet Other Lyra’s does. That isn’t supposed to happen. Not to me.

“Lyra.” Silver’s fingers flex, and he wriggles like a person who has just woken up from a long sleep. At last, he manages to sit up, and we sit facing each other without words passing between us.

And then, suddenly, Silver reaches a hand up. My first instinct is to wince, to pull away from that hand, but whatever it is that I expect does not come. Instead, Silver’s hand rests on my head, and he sighs.

“It’s impossible without you,” he says.

I gape at him as his words register, and then I swallow the pride coursing through me and smile. “What did they do to you in there? This isn’t the Silver I know. Gone soft?” I mean it as a joke, of course, but Silver doesn’t look like he wants to laugh about it. So, I go serious, too, and add, “Besides, it’s _you_. It’s impossible without you, not me.”

“What happened to you? Where did Other Lyra send you?”

I glance at the weakened Mylea, who has used far too much of her power for one day. “Actually, I think it’s more about where this Celebi sent me. I’m not sure Other Lyra even has a clue. Or maybe she did—maybe it was all her idea, I don’t know… I’m not sure what to think anymore.”

Silver looks at Mylea, too, but not with the affection that I do. “Tell me what happened. Now.”

So I explain it all: the third Lyra, the other version of him, the possibility of a reunion with his father being the solution to everything, coupled with the downfall of Team Rocket at the Radio Tower.

“I think it kicks you out of a dimension that isn’t yours when you’ve interfered too much,” I posit, but I am not sure that Silver is paying attention anymore. He has this dazed look on his face, as if he is trying to work out what aspects of my tale he can believe. I want to assure him that it is all real, but I can’t manage to say anything more.

After a moment of silence, I stand up and look through the racks of clothes. I throw a t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts at Silver and nod at him. “Get changed. We don’t need to be a part of Team Rocket anymore.”

Silver’s fingers curl around the shirt I threw at him, but he doesn’t look at me when he asks, “You think it works? You think that _I_ can talk to my old man and everything will be magically solved?” His tone gets darker with every word, and at the loudest point, he finally looks up at me. And he is pissed. “ _You_ can’t go around making those kinds of decisions! Has it ever crossed your mind that even if the Other Silver let you take him there that maybe I wouldn’t want to go along with your stupid plan?”

I furrow my eyebrows and cross my arms in my confusion. “But this whole time… you’ve been talking about defeating him.”

“I say a lot of things, Lyra. A lot of things I don’t mean.”

A fire burns within me now, and I step towards him with my arms still crossed and anger in every crevasse of my face. “Like all that junk about cowards? You’re a coward, Silver!”

“And that’s exactly why I hate them!” Silver retorts, and this makes me go silent. I lower my arms and hold my breath. I’m not sure why this makes my heart ache so much, but I curl a little to make the pain go away, but it doesn’t work all that well.

I try to make my gasp for breath as quiet as I can after a minute of nervously holding it in, but it escapes me like a sob. Art, Dragana, and Mylea all surround me and push their heads against whatever part of my body they can reach.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re not a coward, Silver. You’ve been so brave this whole time, way more than me.” I smile at him and hold out my hand. “Do you think you can stand?”

I expect him to ignore my hand and struggle to his feet on his own, but he grabs my hand. I yank him up, and he wobbles. A moment passes between us as I attempt to catch him, with my hands on his arms and his face right near mine. It’s cliché and stupid, but I let it get to me. But I don’t blush, don’t let go, don’t ignore it. I wrap my arms around him and lean my head on his shoulder.

“Forgive me,” I whisper.

Silver’s shoulders stiffen, so I let go of him. The poor kid can’t catch a break. Maybe I have been destined to fall for him all along, but I think I let it go to my head. But at least I didn’t kiss him without his permission like Other Lyra did.

Still, I give him the space he deserves and gesture for my team and Mylea to follow me into the hallway. Mylea gives me a knowing glance that I don’t particularly appreciate and leave the dressing room-closet.

Out in the hallway, I press my hands around my mouth and lean against the wall. Magnemite’s got the lights flickering again, the little devil, but I welcome the distraction from the series of negative thoughts currently occupying my brain.

What if Silver really doesn’t want to come? What will I do? What will happen to our dimension? Does that mean Silver is the real solution here? And his death in the other dimensions is proof that the dimension failed to save itself from Team Rocket?

“Ugh…” I breathe. Art nudges my leg, and I pat the leaf on top of her head. “I just wish I knew what to do…”

Then I remember the Poké balls in my bag and begin to sort through them. There are certainly more than I had, which means Silver’s are here, too. Other Lyra only had Celebi, but I think Mylea only tagged along for the ride—no Poké ball.

I begin to open all of them and come across Ty, my Golbat, and the rest of Silver’s Pokémon, with a small change: the Gastly Silver first caught is actually a Gengar now. When had that happened?

“Trix? Sweet,” Silver’s voice comes from behind us. “Evolved into Haunter while you were gone, but must have evolved again in the process of switching hands. Not that a choice was really involved… But at least it’ll be more powerful now. If we’re going to take on my dad, that’s a must.”

I look to him so quickly that I feel a twinge in my neck. I wince and slap a hand against my neck, but my attention does not sway. “That was a quick change of heart.”

“I know, I just…” He trails off, sighs, and then continues, “It would be difficult if you were abandoned by your dad, too. You wouldn’t understand.”

I smile knowingly and nod. “Actually, I know all about that. My dad left when I was ten. Didn’t even stick around long enough to say goodbye to me. I haven’t heard from him in years, but that’s okay with me. You, on the other hand,” I say, “have it harder than me. And I can respect that. But I’m here with you every step of the way.”

“I think we have a problem, though. I’m not sure we’re strong enough to take him on, and I _know_ he won’t be taken in by any verbal persuasion. The only option is to defeat him, and we’re not exactly champs here.”

I bite my lip and think. Silver’s got a point. The Silver in the other dimension was obviously way more well-trained than either of us. We’re definitely not champs compared to—

“No…” I wave my finger as a plot comes to mind. “But I know someone who is.”

“Don’t even tell me…” Silver snaps, and I smile and nod.

I reach into my bag and retrieve my PokéGear. I have never been so happy to be connected back to technology. I scroll through my contacts and find Lance’s name among them. The call struggles to connect down here in the underground, but after several weak rings, I can hear the line pick up.

“Lyra? What’s going on in Goldenrod? I’ve been trying to contact you all afternoon.”

“Let’s just say it’s been a wild day. Where are you now?”

There is a crackle as the line fades in and out, and I can’t decipher where it is that Lance is. But I don't think the call will last much longer as it is, unless I go above ground. But we need a plan before that.

“All right, do you think you can do me a favor? Meet me and Silver in New Bark. I think we know how to solve this mess, but we need you.”

“Wi—do—ra—”

I think that is a confirmation, but it’s a little hard to tell once the line goes out completely.

Silver doesn’t look pleased with my plan, but I don’t think we have much of a choice given the circumstances. There is strength in numbers, and personally, I feel that we need all the strength we can get at this point. Silver will be uncomfortable either way, but a final showdown between his father and him would be better without death.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” I repeat excitedly, and Silver rolls his eyes.

“But listen,” he continues. “My dad is no pushover, even if he _was_ defeated by a kid three years ago. I mean, I…” He swallows and then takes a deep breath. “When I was still around, I never even came close to beating him. That kid, Red… maybe he got lucky, I don’t know. Or maybe I’m just way weaker than I thought.”

I shake my head. “You’re not. I think Red beat him fair and square, but he also started his journey before us. Still, we have to keep in mind that it gave your father the opportunity to train harder than ever now. He’s going to be far more experienced than you remember, so if he was strong back then, he’ll be even tougher now.” This doesn’t have a reassuring effect, so I frown. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine. I mean, it’s only the fate of the entire dimension in our hands.”

Silver shakes his head. “I think you’re right: the more people, the better.”

We formulate a plan to escape the city that is relatively simple: we’re just going to fly out. I have Golbat, and Silver will use a little Pidgey that he caught on the outskirts of town the other day. I can’t imagine how the tiny bird will support him, but I’m going to go with the plan we have and not ask questions.

We’ll fly to New Bark, and then…

Well… whatever happens after that happens.

“What do we do about Other Lyra, Proton, and Ariana?” Silver asks as we get ready to go. “I mean, they’re still a problem, and now Other Lyra is completely unprotected _and_ unpredictable. She doesn’t have any Pokémon with her.”

“We’ll count on the fact that she could be transported back to her dimension at any time, I guess.” It isn’t the answer I want to give, but it’s the only one I have right now. “As for the Rockets at the radio tower, I think that will be all taken care of just fine. The police are there, and as soon as we deal with Giovanni, we can make sure Team Rocket is cleared out.”

Silver doesn’t seem to agree with either of my responses, but I also don’t see him offering any better plans.

So, we go with mine. It is a fast exit from Goldenrod, which makes me wonder why I didn’t just try flying in in the first place. But the answer is obvious: there is nothing inconspicuous about flying on an awkward bat and a small bird over the city. There are shouts from below us, but we escape the city without any issues. Entering back _in_ would be an entirely different matter, so I suspect.

I hate the look of things in the city from up here, though. It seems too quiet, too eerie. But it is out of my mind in mere minutes as the skyscrapers and the world below them disappear from sight.

I can’t say that it is a fast trip to New Bark, but it _is_ an uneventful one, which is all I can ask considering recent events. We arrive late. The street lamps are on, but all the lights are off inside the neighborhood houses.

The air has always been so fresh here, so I take a deep breath and revel in the moment. I am tempted to go to my house and visit my mom: to hug her and tell her that I love her, just in case, but at the same time, I think what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“Where do you think he is?” Silver asks when we land.

“Assuming he’s here…” I mutter.

We return our Pokémon to their balls, with the exception of Art and Ty. The two are on guard, with their heads lowered and their defenses up.

A sudden glow from near Elm’s lab catches their attention, quickly followed by mine and Silver’s. “Come on,” I whisper and head in the direction of the glow.

“Lyra, that you?” Lance’s familiar voice asks across the road. I wave, which is likely visible in the soft glow given by some Pokémon whose silhouette I can’t make out. But I _can_ see that Lance is not the only person here.

Silver elbows me with some express judgment, as if trying to tell me that we shouldn’t have trusted Lance. But upon closer inspection, I realize that I know the other people he brought with him—at least some of them. There is one woman who is unfamiliar to me among the faces I recognize: Falkner, Bugsy, and Morty.

“Bugsy!” I exclaim a little too loudly for this time of night. The little boy hurries towards me and hugs me. Falkner approaches even before Bugsy has let go of me and pats my shoulder. Unfortunately, I can see Morty hesitating aside from all this, which makes me angry at Other Lyra all over again.

“You’re okay!” Bugsy says when he lets go of me.

“Hope you don’t mind that I invited some friends. This sounded important,” Lance inputs, and I wave my hand at him.

“Not at all.”

But Silver clears his throat behind me, and everyone turns their attention on him. “Well, _I_ mind. It’s my dad, after all. I don’t exactly want an audience when I meet him again for the first time in three years. So, thanks, bud. You just wasted everybody’s time, including mine. Sorry, Lyra, do this without me.”

He begins to turn, but I grab his hand. “Silver, stop,” I order. He pulls his hand away from mine. “This is it—this is the solution! What happened to ‘the more people the better’ philosophy we had going on?”

Some sort of internal struggle takes hold of Silver. I can understand his hesitance… at least, I assume I do, which probably means that I don’t have a clue. But he was totally cast aside by his dad, left behind for a defunct organization out of pride, completely abandoned. And _clearly_ he never got over it. That is a lot of built up angst…

I just… wish I could help him…

“Wonderful. A great big baby,” the woman in the group sneers. The light of Bugsy’s Butterfree casts an ominous shadow over her face, but I can tell even in the dimness that she bears a striking resemblance, at least in fashion, to Lance.

“Clair…” Lance warns.

“Say that again,” Silver snaps. He turns and glares at the woman, Clair.

“You’re a _baby_. We’re here out of the goodness of our hearts, and _you_ think that you’re more important than the rest of us? What a joke.” She rolls her eyes, and they end up pointed at me. “And dramatic much? You call us all here in the middle of the night only for us to be insulted and turned away. Disgusting.”

“Clair!” Lance says, louder and more firmly this time, and she looks at him as if begging for a challenge. “Let them at least explain what we’re all doing here before you make assumptions and make yourself look like an idiot.”

“ _I’m_ the idiot?” she demands.

“Wait, wait, wait, hear me out, okay?” I interrupt before Clair can get going on a tirade.

Everyone, including Clair, remains silent during my explanation of the transpired events of the past twenty-four hours. When I finish, I notice that Morty appears more sympathetic than earlier, but Clair still wears the same disgusted look as if Dragana had just breathed directly under her nose.

“You want me to believe—” Clair begins, but Lance holds up his hand to silence her.

“And defeating Giovanni and ensuring that Team Rocket doesn’t get the strange signal out nationwide will solve the problem?” he asks me. It is all I can do to nod because it is the only hope I have left. “All right, then we’ll split up. That’ll make it easier on Silver surely, and should kill two birds with one stone.”

“Silver?” I ask. He waves his hand, which I think signals acceptance.

“How about Silver, Morty, Clair, and I take on Giovanni? Lyra, Bugsy, and Falkner, you three can buy time at the radio tower until we finish up and join you. Enlist Whitney when you get there,” Lance suggests, and my heart practically stops for reasons I don’t want to admit.

Even Silver glances at me initially with some panic before seeming to realize it and going stoic. I am not so in control of my emotions.

“No, I can’t be separated from Silver again.”

All eyes turn on me, including Silver’s, and I try to find the words to make an excuse. I can’t.

“He’ll be fine,” Lance assures me.

“I’ll be fine,” Silver repeats firmly.

I _want_ to believe it, but…

“Lyra.” Silver steps directly in front of me and grabs my shoulders. He gives me a gentle shake, and I stare him right in the eyes. “I’ll be fine. I guess I can work with a small audience…” He smirks, and I admit it is really nice to see.

“You said it was impossible without me,” I whisper, and his smirk grows wider.

“And you told me it wasn’t.”

I don’t want to accept being separated again—because I have a duty to make sure he survives, I tell myself—but I find myself nodding anyway.

“Tohjo Falls,” I say, loud enough for the Giovanni-takedown-team to hear. “The cavern is right behind the first waterfall. Call me if something happens.”

“It’ll all work out, Lyra,” Falkner tells me, to which Bugsy adds a firm, “Yeah!”

Somehow, I end up watching at the water’s edge as Lance, Clair, Morty, and Silver head towards Tohjo Falls without me. And I don’t realize that my hands are shaking until Bugsy grabs hold of my right one.

“Lance is the champion, and Clair is the strongest gym leader in all of Johto,” he assures me. “Nothing could possibly go wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter entirely on my tablet on a long car ride after little sleep, so there could be lots of errors that I didn’t notice while proofreading. Please let me know if you catch any.
> 
> Silver needs some advice from Shia LaBeouf this chapter: “Just do it!”


	17. Impossible

**Chapter Seventeen – Impossible**

I think I know exactly why Bugsy’s words don’t have the comforting effects they should: because whenever anyone says that nothing could go wrong, something _does_. And it’s inherently unfair that I have to be the negative one in all of this because I remember how I started this whole journey… confident and brave. Now, it’s like someone zapped all of that from me.

Is it supposed to be like this? Is trying to do good for the sake of being good—pure altruism in its simplest form—supposed to be this hard? To reverse the strength I thought I had and actually make me weaker by the end?

Falkner notices my solemnity during our flight back to Goldenrod. It seems a longer journey this time because my heart has been pounding anxiously nonstop since we took off. But the bird-type master draws closer to me as we soar below the clouds, and the thumping subsides just a little. I feel like I can breathe again at last.

“Almost there, Lyra!” Falkner shouts to me. I smile at him because I know that is what he wants, but I’m not sure it’s convincing.

Because “almost there” means that Silver has found his father already… most likely, assuming nothing already went wrong. And it means that the confrontation has begun, and I’m not there—once again—to help him.

But we are too close to Goldenrod now to turn back. So I say nothing but instead keep my eyes on the ground below and then at the horizon ahead as the city comes into view.

Celebi flies beside me, though it seems a struggle for its little wings to vibrate and keep it afloat. The poor thing has been run ragged over the past twenty-four hours, and I want to relinquish it from all of this—to say, “Okay, Mylea, you're done, go free.” But I can’t bring myself to say anything. The little thing is too important: my deux ex machina in all of this. Worse comes to worst, maybe it will be able to freeze time once more, even if for a little bit.

Getting into the city is easy this time because the Rocket grunts can’t leave their posts and the police are right on us when we land. The officers’ attention focuses first on Falkner and Bugsy, who seem to be well-known here. But then they look at me, and one of the officers points an accusatory finger in my direction.

“You!”

“I was undercover,” I explain, and the two gym leaders jump to my defense, too. Unfortunately, I’m not sure the officers understood anything any of us said because of that. Handcuffs and a series of growls from the Arcanines alert me of that, anyway.

“ _Wait_ ,” a voice orders, and a woman steps forward from the line of officers with her hands on her hips. She nods towards me. “Chief Gauss. You, explain.”

I think that is the woman’s introduction. I want to question why the chief of police is not doing more to deal with this Team Rocket mess, but it isn’t my place to question the authority here. So, I give her what she wants.

“My name is Lyra. I’ve been working undercover to stop Team Rocket, not to help them. Just ask Leaders Falkner and Bugsy.” I gesture to my two friends, and they affirm my claim. “And we’re back here to help. Taking down Team Rocket is imperative. I think I’ll have a chance to rescue the hostages in the radio tower if I go in.”

“No,” Chief Gauss snaps. “We are trained in how to handle hostage situations. However capable you may be, however you have gotten past us already, it is against protocol to allow a civilian to interfere with hostage handling. The only exceptions we could possibly make would be for Leader Falkner, who is at least of age and a civil servant.”

 _“_ I’m totally of age,” I counter. If I’m old enough to go out on my own in the world and attempt to stop an evil organization following orders from a version of myself in another dimension, I’m for sure old enough to work with the police force to legally do something about it.

But Chief Gauss isn’t buying it. Her look is skeptical at best and derisive at worst.

“I’m sorry, Miss Lyra, but my word is final.”

Bugsy slips his hand into mine and squeezes, and Falkner frowns at me as if to say, _Hey, it was worth a shot_. But I don’t believe in giving up here, not when Silver is out there without me risking his neck.

Well, it’s not that I don’t believe. It’s more like I’m not allowed to quit.

“Hmm, well, that’s really too bad,” I say quietly, looking at Chief Gauss from beneath my eyelashes. “I would’ve liked to do this the easy way, but if you insist…”

I don’t actually have a plan. I can be a big talker when I really want to be, and now is certainly one of those times. But I really don’t have a single clue how I can disobey the police without getting in serious trouble.

I guess I just can’t get caught.

I hold Bugsy’s hand tight and then grab hold of Falkner’s wrist. “Bye!” I shout to Gauss, and then I sprint forward. I probably give the two of them whiplash, as my sudden revolt is so unexpected that they move forward with a jolt. But they’re running beside me, even as a flash of fire burns past us in an attempt to stop us from going any further.

“Stop this instance!” Chief Gauss screams.

“I’m of age!” Falkner shouts back. The three of us laugh as we break into the radio tower, and Falkner smacks me on the back when I release his arm. “Lyra, you’re very brave, aren’t you?”

I smile, but our relative elation fades fast as I look towards the stairs. I have two very powerful trainers with me, both of whom I trust dearly to handle this with me, but I can’t help but be weary about all of this. Who wouldn’t be, I guess?

“Thanks, you two, for coming here.”

“You sound like you’ve already lost.” Falkner puts a hand on my shoulder and nods. “You can do this, Lyra. _We_ can do this. And I assure you that Silver is safe with Lance. Lance is the _Champion_ —the strongest trainer in all of Johto _and_ Kanto. So any reservations you have about separating from him, forget them. He’ll be okay.”

So, Falkner knows, which means that Bugsy has figured it out, too, probably. And based on the pitying look that little kid gives me, I’m not wrong.

“Yeah, Lyra, he’ll be fine. Everything will be fine,” Bugsy assures me.

And just like his words earlier, this just makes me even more uncomfortable, but I don’t admit that. I just give them a thankful—or at least accepting—smile and turn my attention to the stairs.

But then Bugsy speaks again, and it’s not something I can so easily accept.

“This whole thing seems like it would be impossible without you, Lyra,” he says. He smiles at me, but this time, I can’t return the favor.

“Why do people keep saying that? First Silver, then you. Nothing is impossible without me. As a matter of fact, I think I’ve only made things worse along the way.” I burrow my face in my hands, and Bugsy puts a hand on my back. “And don’t tell me that everything will be okay because it’s way too hard for me to believe that. _Especially_ if it all counts on me.”

One of the boys grabs my wrist—I think it’s Bugsy, judging by the size of the hand and the softness of the skin—and make me remove my hand from my face. The little boy, _the little boy who I dragged into this_ , looks me right in the eye and says, “It feels like I’ve known you forever. A lot longer than this, anyway. And I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think this would all work out!”

He hugs me again, just like the first time; it’s tight and desperate, and it expresses so much more than a normal hug ever demonstrates.

“That’s sweet, Bugsy,” I tell him. I pat his head like my mom used to do to me when I was younger; I remember it feeling nice, but it kind of just feels like I’m patronizing him now, even though I’m not.

“Same here,” Falkner interjects. He holds his hand up as if volunteering himself for something I never requested. “None of this would have happened in the first place if it weren’t for you. When you came to my gym and took the risk of telling me about all that would happen—”

“I did that because of someone else,” I counter. Other Lyra, somewhere upstairs, comes to mind. And I know that she’ll make me angry and we’ll fight, but I also know that maybe it isn’t me after all. Maybe it’s Other Lyra who this cannot be done without. “Enough chit-chatting. We need to go stop them.”

I nod towards the stairs, and the three of us creep over to them. Celebi hangs onto my shoulder, and Bugsy hangs onto my arm just below the Pokémon. I want to tell the both of them that I feel too burdened with them grabbing me like this, but I don’t. The emotions mixing within me bother me too much to say anything: on the one hand, it’s nice to feel wanted; on the other, this is a ridiculous amount of pressure.

When we make it up to Other Lyra and the Rockets, I expect a look of gratitude. But with Other Lyra, nothing is ever what it should be.

“No. No, no, no! What are you doing back here?” Other Lyra demands. I exchange a look with Falkner before turning my attention back to my dimensional twin. “Why aren’t you with him? With Silver?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask with a slightly awkward laugh. I suddenly feel nauseous.

“ _Silver_. Why aren’t you with him?”

“I—he’s with Lance and the others—”

“No, I told him! He can’t do it without you, it’s impossible!”

“Will you _shut up_?”

Proton, who for some reason I didn’t notice prior to this, stands up from a chair in front of one of many computers. He puts his hands on his hips and stares at me in a way that sends a shiver up my spine. But, frankly, even thinking about him makes that happen to me now. I do _not_ like that man.

“You’re like an incessant bug that won’t go away. And it’s bad enough dealing with your twin over here who also never shuts up,” he continues, and Other Lyra smirks at him.

“Oh, a turn off, is it?” she snaps. “In that case…”

“Back _again_?” The redheaded woman enters the room from another staircase, but she’s not alone. There are two men with her: one in a trench coat and a hat, and the other in a suit with short and unusually-colored blue hair.

“Ariana, you’re a woman. Why does your sex insist on never shutting their damn traps?” Proton asks. Ariana, the redhead, does not appear particularly pleased and shoots Proton a horrifying look. Even Proton looks away from her as a result.

The man in the trench coat steps forward, though, and Other Lyra’s eyes widen for a brief second. But then she bursts out laughing.

“Lyra, do you know who this is?” she asks me.

But I don’t need to think too hard about it because Bugsy’s hand grips my arm even tighter, and I feel Falkner stiffen at my side. “No… Giovanni… then, Silver, he—”

Other Lyra shakes her head and grins. “Not quite. But not a bad disguise there, Petrel. It’s actually improved since the time that I met you at the hideout.”

The man removes his hat, which reveals his face, too, in the light. He’s kind of a creepy-looking man. I wonder if I’d take on Proton again before dealing with this guy. “ _Have_ we met?”

“Technically not,” Other Lyra says.

There are many questions I want to ask and answers I need, but I don’t say anything yet. The only important thing is that this man isn’t Giovanni, which means that Silver and the others likely made it to him after all.

Actually, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. But I want to think that if Giovanni doesn’t show up here, it’ll all work out in our favor.

First, though, we’ve got a bit to take care of.

“Falkner, Bugsy,” I say. I grab a Poké ball from my bag and let Art out. “The faster we take care of them, the sooner we can let the others know everything is good here, and the sooner we can get out of this crap.”

Falkner sends out a Pidgeot, and Bugsy a Scyther. The Rockets laugh but take this seriously enough to send out Pokémon of their own: a Vileplume, Weezing, and Houndoom. All but Proton, who takes a bow with a flamboyant wave of his arm.

“Excuse me. But I have a radio signal to send out.”

He runs up the stairs, vanishing at least a floor above. This is where Other Lyra lost, right? This is where she took on the Rockets and failed, and as a consequence, the ferocious evolving-inducing radio signal got sent and Giovanni returned. Moral of the story: we can’t fail here even in part.

Proton can’t get that signal going, and we can’t lose to these Rockets.

“Sorry, guys.” I pat Bugsy and Falkner both on their backs. “Let me deal with Proton. Lyra!” I call to my doppelganger, and I throw a ball to her from my bag. “Use Dragana and help out. I’ll be back in a bit.”

I hear the protests of all three on my side, but I have to ignore them. I know the consequences of all of my actions here. I am in the process of getting Other Lyra overly involved, which means that her time here is short. And I, an under-leveled and under-qualified trainer, am attempting to destroy what is left of Team Rocket.

I’ve barely made it to the stairs with Art by my side when the latest headache hits. It’s been awhile since I’ve had one even though I know everything has changed. And I think that’s why they’ve been less common. _Everything_ is different than before, at least for the most part. But here and now, me doing this, it’s a deviation of a situation that’s been meant to happen all along. I am meant to be challenging those Rockets downstairs, not stopping Proton up here.

But that’s what Other Lyra is there for now.

I fight through the headache. I feel like my name is being shouted in slow motion in voices I don’t recognize, but I have to push those aside. I grab the banister of the staircase and pull myself up a single step at a time. It’s like trying to run through water in a dream: almost impossible. But almost is never certain.

The headache vanishes almost as quickly as it comes, though. I’m up the stairs, and I see a both with a red flashing sign reading, “RECORDING,” above a glass door.

Shit, how did he set up so quickly?

The headache leaves me feeling sluggish, but I sprint towards the door anyway and throw it open.

Proton hasn’t got the signal going yet. He’s trying to connect wires on something, but he looks up when I enter and grins.

“Persistent. Incessant. Annoying.”

“You disgust me, you know,” I say. “Stop this now, and you won’t have to have the shit kicked out of you by a sixteen-year-old.”

“I’ll take my chances. I doubt your little friends can take on the top executives of Team Rocket downstairs, and there’s no way that you can take me on with just that little artichoke behind you,” Proton says.

Something pangs in my chest, and I furrow my eyebrows. “What did you just call Art?”

The whole reason I named Art was because of Silver calling her an artichoke…

And that Proton would say the same sparks a rage in me so strong that I just launch myself forward without bothering to tell Art to do anything in my place. Because this is about me and him, not about Art and some manipulated Pokémon he will obviously send out.

But I don’t actually go for Proton. I go for the equipment. I yank the wires and throw the portable devices he’s brought onto the floor. He grabs my hair, but that only fuels my fire. I kick his shins and punch him in the jaw, and I swear that someone—Art maybe—is cheering me on in the background.

And then with all the strength I muster, I grab his head and smash his face into the sound booth.

He falls to the ground, bleeding and unconscious, and I wipe my forehead, which is beaded with sweat. “Holy hell,” I mutter. “That was way easier and way more fun than I thought it would be. Silver had the right idea.”

“Hey, don’t go promoting violence as a solution to all problems.”

I jump when I hear my own voice talking. I should be used to this by now.

Other Lyra isn’t smiling anymore like she was downstairs, but now neither am I. She’s supposed to be down with the boys helping to take care of the Rockets. Instead, she’s up here with Mylea on her shoulder instead of on mine, and she looks pissed. And I would know since that is my own face.

“I was working on it, you know.”

“Hell of a job,” I mutter.

“Where is Silver?”

I force myself to smile because it all feel so awful, and I feel like smiling is the only thing I can do to make myself feel better. “He’s with Lance and Morty and Clair… going to take on Giovanni. Not exactly eager to do it… but he wasn’t where you sent me either. But I realized that it was Silver who needed to deal with his father, not me.”

Other Lyra runs a hand through her knotted hair, which only ends up with her fingers tangled in the mess. She doesn’t look particularly bothered by it, perhaps because the other thoughts she has running through her mind take precedence.

She sighs and looks at me. Her hands are out of her hair and instead folded together. “I told Silver everything when you were gone. Maybe that was why he was hesitant about going to face his father. It’s my fault. And it’s my fault that you’re not with him—I _should’ve_ stopped Team Rocket here at the tower.”

“What do you mean you told him everything? What ‘everything’?” I ask.

Such a simple question brings tears to her eyes, and she looks away from me with a deep breath. “About me, about why I sent you away, and about him. Everything.”

“Elaborate. Don’t play games.”

Other Lyra bites her lip, looks briefly away from me, and then stares back at me with a changed expression: it’s dark and mad.

“I was content with just sending letters at first, but when I found out that I could send myself, I thought that would be the best. I watched my best friends all die, and I was not going to watch that again. I wanted to come over here and be the hero, but when I met you…” She shook her head and sighed once again. “You’re really different from me. I haven’t disappeared— _you’re_ the one in control here. The reason that all of this might very well work out is because of you. I couldn’t do anything here nor there.”

“And? Jealous?”

“A little. But I realized that if I sent you somewhere else, gave you time to play around somewhere else, that you would be able to make it back here by interfering. I haven’t been able to do that. And here you are, back already.” Her expression softens. “It was a gamble playing around with one of our other’s dimensions, but I felt it was a sacrifice that I could make knowing that you were the one I was gambling with.”

“What about Silver?”

She nods. “You need to get to him. Sure, maybe he needs to confront his dad. It was the part I never figured out. But the only way that it will be successful is with you there with him. He needs your support. Haven’t you seen… he’s scared without you? And I think the only possible way that he can face his dad with all of his strength, which is what he really needs, is with you by his side—unafraid because _you_ are his strength.”

The pang of my heart strikes again, but I know what it is this time. I look at Proton on the floor, glimpse the broken equipment scattered around him, follow the wires to the source beside Proton’s hand. And for some reason the sight of all of this makes me wonder if I’ve been wasting my time here. Other Lyra could’ve done _this_ , right? But if only I can help Silver…

“You told Silver all of this?”

“I may have left out the last part. But I told him not to go facing anything dangerous by himself because it’d be impossible to win. Guess it didn’t really sink in.” She laughs drily and then reaches a hand out to my shoulder. “Go get him. Even with Lance there, _you’re_ the catalyst for change. You’re the one who can help.”

“Isn’t it too late?”

Other Lyra shakes her head. “I hope not. But I guess I’m not going to find out, anyway. I’ll help out here with Mylea.” She moves her hand down my arm to my hand, holds it face up, and then puts the Poké ball belonging to Dragana back in my hand. “I won’t fail again. That just means I won’t be back here when you return. Sorry about all of the trouble I’ve caused. Now get out of here.”

I don’t wait to be told twice because I know that will just waste even more time. I sprint away, wave my luck to Falkner and Bugsy, and then fly back to where I came from not too long ago. And I have to hope, too, that it’s not too late. But if it’s not… then what has been going on while I’ve been gone?

And will Silver be alive when I get there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did everyone see that generations episode with Silver yesterday? I enjoyed it. It gave me the motivation to, uh, actually finish this chapter that I’ve had mostly-written since the end of August.  
> Until next time.


	18. Anticipation

The pounding of my heart distracts me from actually _thinking_ about how scared I am, which is both a blessing and a curse.

Tohjo Falls looks the same as it did in the other dimension, but the feeling is more ominous here than before. I can’t hear anything over the roar of the waterfall, so I don’t know if Silver and the others are in the little alcove or not. But the feeling in my gut is not a pleasant one. I’m not used to feeling so pessimistic.

“Help me up there,” I say to my Golbat. I hold out my arm, and Golbat helps me climb the rocks up to the ledge behind the waterfall. I’m positive now that it’s silent. No one is talking in there, no one is battling. And I’m not sure exactly what that means.

I let Art and Dragana out alongside Golbat, and with tentative steps, I walk towards the opening to the alcove. I’m expecting another headache burst, because I’m not supposed to be here now, but I think even if it comes, I wouldn’t notice over the frantic beating of my heart. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut before turning the corner.

It’s not exactly my worst nightmare, but it’s close. Lance, Clair, and Morty are all unconscious, their bodies strewn across the floor. “No,” I whisper, and drop my bag and dart towards them. Silver is nowhere to be found, which I’m not sure is a good thing or bad thing. But my lip is trembling, and my hands shake as I think of all the horrible possibilities.

I drop down beside the Champion’s body and put my hand on his chest. There’s a heartbeat. “Lance. _Lance_ ,” I hiss, jolting him back and forth. He doesn’t stir, so I move to Morty. He’s breathing, too, and so is Clair when I check on her.

“Art, pass me my bag.”

I’m not sure what I have that can be of any help… medicine for my team, nothing for humans, I imagine. But I dig through the contents of my bag, anyway, pulling out item after item in hopes that I have something that might be able to help them.

My fingers latch around something feathery in the bottom of my bag, and I pull whatever it is out. The item is vaguely familiar: a rainbow-colored feather.

“What?” I whisper, and look down into the depths of my bag. The rainbow-colored feather isn’t the only one in there; there’s another silver feather and two old-fashioned bells. And holding each of these objects in my hands, I remember where I saw them last. Other Lyra was trying to tell me about these things… and Eusine had called them the legendary artifacts.

_They can help you_ , Other Lyra had told me.

“Lyra?”

I look up from the legendary artifacts to the person who said my name. Lance is attempting to sit up, and I put the objects aside and scramble towards him. “Stop, don’t push yourself,” I tell the Champion. But it’s too late. He’s already sitting up and holding an arm around his stomach with a pained expression.

“What are you doing here? Is everything all right at the radio station?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, things are…” I trail off because I’m unsure if things are _actually_ going to be all right. I thought everything was going to be all right here, and clearly it wasn’t. “It’s fine for now. I was told that I needed to come back here to be with Silver. Where is he? And what happened to you guys?”

Lance reaches out and puts a hand on top of mine, which rests on my knee while I kneel beside him. “Giovanni was here. He’s unbelievably strong. He knocked us out, and I can only assume that he fled with Silver. I’m sorry, Lyra. I assured you he would be safe, but…”

Tears brim in my eyes again, but I purse my lips and hold them back. “Where do you think they went?”

“I don’t know. But Giovanni wasn’t happy to see Silver. I know that much.”

In the other dimensions… was it by Giovanni’s hands that Silver died? I can’t bear the thought, but no matter how hard I try to push it aside, a vision of some horrible ending clouds over every other thought in my mind. The confidence I want to muster, for Silver, isn’t quite coming through above the nightmares.

But I have to start thinking. The signal never got out at the radio tower, so there’s no reason Giovanni would go to Goldenrod. I try to remember the places where Other Silver mentioned that he and his father had lived back before Red stopped Team Rocket.

Oh, Red. I wonder if Professor Oak ever got ahold of him. We need all the help we can get right now.

“Lance…”

“Yeah?”

He’s moved past whatever pain he feels because his arm slackens against his stomach, and he’s looking me right in the eye without a hint of discomfort. I wish I could be like him, able to move past everything bad and focus on only the important things. I used to be able to… but it’s harder for me now, maybe because I know what is at stake.

“When the others are better, I need you guys to do something for me.”

I glance over my shoulder at Morty and Clair. Neither of them have so much as stirred since Lance regained consciousness, which makes me feel worse for asking for help. They probably need medical attention, and right now, I’m definitely putting my needs above theirs. This selfishness doesn’t exactly feel great.

“Anything.”

“I asked Professor Oak to contact Red for me. I need you guys to figure out if he followed through. We need Red. Do you know him?” I ask.

Lance nods. “I met him when he first challenged the Elite Four. I was one of them back then. But I don’t know exactly where he is now. That’s one of the reasons why I’m the current Champion… Red vanished. No one knows where he is. I doubt that Professor Oak could figure it out if even his own mother doesn’t know where he ended up.”

“Try to find him. He knows Giovanni. He could help.” He nods again, and I smile at him. It’s half-hearted, but it’s the best that I can muster right now.

I slip my hand out from under Lance’s and reach to my side, where the legendary artifacts rest against the damp floor. “Do you know what these are?” I ask, picking each of the four objects up and showing them to Lance. It’s subtle, but his eyes get a little bit bigger upon seeing them.

“Those are…” Lance reaches out and picks up the silver feather. He twirls it in his fingers, back and forth, back and forth. “This is a feather from Lugia. And that one…” He picks up the rainbow-colored feather with his other hand and holds it between our faces. “Ho-oh. These are very rare.”

“And these?” I lift up the two bells, the blue one and the bronze. Both make little tinny noises as I move them.

Lance studies them for a moment and then hands the two feathers back to me. “Bring all these to the Kimono Girls in Ecruteak. They will be able to perform an ancient ceremony that should awaken the legendary Pokémon, Lugia and Ho-oh.”

“But do you think…” I pause, glance over my shoulder at Morty, who has finally started to regain consciousness, and then turn back to Lance. “Do you think it could all turn out wrong if I awaken them? That Team Rocket will gain control of them?” Because according to Other Lyra, Team Rocket gets their hands on the legendaries in every other failing dimension. Maybe I’m better off keeping these artifacts safe elsewhere.

But Lance seems to read my mind and offers a possible solution: “Not if you catch them.” He loosens a cloth bag from his belt and hands it to me. Inside are a couple of Ultra Balls, which I’m not sure would be enough to capture some legendaries, but I am thankful for the gesture nonetheless.

I smile at him and tie the bag to the strap of my own. “Thanks, Lance.”

“I’ll watch over my cousin and Morty, make sure they’re okay, and then we’ll find Red.” Lance rubs his forehead, and suddenly, fatigue washes over him as though he was just dunked under that waterfall over there. “You capture those legendary Pokémon, and we’ll stop Team Rocket together. Silver will be okay, Lyra, I promise.”

But he wasn’t okay in the other dimensions. So, what proof is there that he will be okay now, except Lance’s word?

I have no other choice, though. We don’t know where Giovanni went with Silver, and a fruitless attempt to figure it out won’t help anyone. The whole dimension is at stake, and Team Rocket is still out there. Other Lyra, Falkner, and Bugsy… they very well may have the radio tower under control, but…

The legendary artifacts go back in my bag, and I stand on my feet. For some reason, it’s kind of a proud feeling having Lance look up to me the way he is now, as if I have all the power in the world. I know I don’t, but the façade is a nice one.

“If I fail?” I ask. “If I can’t capture the legendary Pokémon?”

Lance grimaces while the many unfortunate consequences pass through his mind. But in the end, he turns that grimace into a grin. “You won’t.”

So, that’s it, then. I don’t have a choice. I have to succeed.

I nod and turn on my heel to leave the alcove. There’s nothing more I can do for them here, anyway, and the sooner I find the legendary Pokémon, the better.

It seems as soon as I’m here, I’m gone again, off on another journey to do something to save this dimension. Ecruteak is a fairly significant flight away, especially for Golbat, who exhausted much of its energy getting me to Tohjo Falls in the first place. Any respectable trainer wouldn’t push his or her Pokémon that hard, but what else can I do?

By the time we make it to Ecruteak, it’s a blazing hot evening; summer has started to kick in, pushing June’s spring away, which only makes me feel worse for making Golbat fly so much for me. The poor thing.

Ecruteak reminds me of Violet, with its ancient architecture and old-fashioned folk, which is kind of surprising given that Morty didn’t give me that impression at all. However, it _does_ make it easy to find the Kimono Girls, because there are signs all over the city describing the “classic” performances for tourists who might not know.

Unsurprisingly, I’m not the only one heading that way, either. There’s a line to get into the building where the performances are given.

“I don’t have time to wait,” I mutter under my breath, and cut the entire line to where the manager waits by the doors.

“Excuse me!” several people object, but I have to ignore them despite how awkward this makes me feel.

I dig through my bag again and come out with the four legendary artifacts, and before the manager can get a word of protest against my rudeness out, I have the items in my hands in front of his face. “I need to speak with the Kimono Girls. They’ll know what these are. It’s of vital importance.”

The manager stares down at the objects, and then he looks me in the eye with neither wonder nor fury. It’s fear that has him taken.

“My apologies, valued customers,” the manager calls out beyond me. “The performance tonight by our lovely dancers has been cancelled.”

There are murmurs and groans of frustration and anger, but I don’t have much time to listen to them. The manager grabs me by the arm and pulls me into the theater, and he begins speaking so quickly that I barely have time to comprehend what he’s saying.

“They’ve been waiting a long time for someone to bring the artifacts forward. There’s an ancient ritual to perform when they are all brought together, and the legendary Pokémon arrive to recognize the hero who calls them,” he explains. “I never expected it to be someone so young. Leader Morty and his friend Eusine have been searching for the artifacts for years in order to be recognized, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and the manager looks over at me and smiles.

“No need to apologize. There is no fault here. Recognition belongs to no one person just because they’ve been seeking it.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I don’t. He leads me in silence to the stage, and then behind it to the rooms hidden from view. There are seven young women there, maybe a little bit older than me, dressed in ornate kimonos and painted with impressively perfect makeup. I admit that they are a little intimidating.

“Girls!”

But they don’t need the direction. They have all looked up when we entered the room, and they have all noticed the legendary artifacts I’m holding. One of the young women stands and walks over to me, staring down at the items as if held in a trance.

“These are genuine but… unusual,” she tells me. Her voice is sweet, like music, and I feel my heart quicken. “Where did you find these?”

I can’t tell her that they’re unusual because they come from another dimension, and frankly, I never considered that this could be a potential problem. Will the artifacts still summon the legendary Pokémon if they’re not even from this version of the world?

The Kimono Girl notices my hesitance and smiles. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. No need to disclose that information. That these are here now is all we need.”

“This is wonderful,” another girl says, standing and walking over to us. “But, yes, unusual.”

“You wish to summon the legendary Pokémon?” a third Kimono Girl asks, and every one of them looks me in the eye. When I nod, the third girl claps her hands together. “Marvelous. And you’re one lucky young lady. It’s not every day that someone gets a private performance by the Kimono Girls.”

The rest of the girls rise and usher me out of the room. The manager leads me to the front row of the theater, and the Kimono Girls each take a spot on the stage. I release Art and Dragana so they can watch, too, and my three teammates sit beside me fixated on the girls in front of us.

I have never been one for dancing. I used to blast music in my room and tap my feet or bob my head, but I always had a hard time keeping rhythm. Ethan used to make fun of me for it. My mom attempted to sign me up for dance lessons, both traditional and ballet, but nothing worked to fix my lack of rhythm.

But these girls… they move in intricate and delicate ways. Their feet glide along the floor, and their hands fold over fans as if performing magic. I find myself transfixed, watching the Kimono Girls dance as if born to do it. As if the only way they could move was perfectly, as if only in dance alone. The music, too, is a steady beat of traditional instruments, and each second guides the girls into more intense movements.

My heart beats quicker and quicker with the crescendo and acceleration, and I can’t tear my eyes away. The fans move in and out, the girls multiplying as they move around each other. I can’t tell if I’m nervous or excited, but it doesn’t matter.

The last _boom_ of the drums startles me out of my trance, and all the dancing has ceased. There’s another _boom_ , and the whole building shakes. That was no drum… not that one…

The Kimono Girls smile and look up towards the ceiling.

“They await you now… oh, dear… we didn’t get your name. How embarrassing,” says one of the Kimono Girls, who I think isn’t one who has addressed me before.

“Lyra.”

“Then, dear Lyra, the legendary Pokémon are here for you.” The Kimono Girl moves forward on the stage and reaches out her hands to me. I step towards her and place my hands in hers. Her skin is so soft. “Do not fear them. They are here to help you with whatever it is you need. Trust in them.”

She lets go of my hands, and I smile at each of the beautiful women before turning. There is another rumble, perhaps as one of the legendary Pokémon moves outside, and I look at my own Pokémon hurrying at my side. Their loyalty is something I can never forget, but something I know I take for granted.

“You guys can do this. Don’t be scared.”

Art bumps my hand with her head, and I smile down at her. We’re at the doors leaving the theater, and I’m surrounded by my Pokémon who believe in me and in whom I believe. I think this will work.

The crowd of people forming a line in front of the door has dispersed, but now another group forms in the middle of the street. People stare above me at something I can’t see because of the roof overhang, but I know what it is. That alone is enough to make me shiver.

Someone in the front of the crowd reaches into her bag and retrieves a Poké Ball. And, of course, why not? The legendary Pokémon appear out of nowhere, and you just let them sit there? Even I would jump at the chance to catch them.

But I rush forward and hold my hands out wide in front of the woman, who stares at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am.

I don’t have time for explanations, so I don’t say anything to the woman. Instead, I turn and look, for the first time, at the beasts sitting on the roof of the theater. My gaze meets theirs--their powerful, omniscient, but surprisingly warm gazes--and I feel a sense of relief I haven’t felt in a long time.

“Lugia. Ho-oh,” I say.

They cry out in recognition, causing several of the people right behind me to flinch; I don’t have to look to notice their jumps. The woman right behind me drops the Poké Balls she had taken out to the ground.

That’s enough for me to remember the Ultra Balls Lance gave me. But there’s no way that either Lugia or Ho-oh will let me catch them without a hitch. I don’t know why I know that… there’s something in their eyes. Something that makes me understand them.

I glance down at my own Pokémon in front of me and take a deep breath. “Ready, Art?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, twenty years later… I’m alive. I swear. And I’m sorry for the delay. Adulthood is hard, to say the least. But the good news is that I finished my Master’s degree and got a new job. I mean, that stuff happened in May, but… yolo?
> 
> Anyway, I do truly apologize for the extremely long delay. I still have the intention of finishing this story if you feel like bearing with me on this. I can’t say that the next update will be quick by any means, but my goal is definitely less than a year from now, LOL.
> 
> If you do stick with me on this, thank you so much. We’re almost at the end.


End file.
